


Angel of the Galaxies

by CSP2708



Series: Angel of the Galaxies [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Army of Chaos, Chaos and Order, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Death and Rebirth, F/M, Forbidden Love, Olympians, Secrets, hidden identity, primordial gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 113,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24950941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSP2708/pseuds/CSP2708
Summary: Percy Jackson is just a simple son of Poseidon. Or is it Neptune? He can't really tell the difference anymore, as the two camps have become one, and the differences between the gods' Greek and Roman forms have all but faded. Unfortunately, the Fates have other plans in store for him, once again flipping his life on its top. He leaves his home in disgrace and finds a new home elsewhere. What will happen to the hero when he must return? A new enemy on the horizon and the legendary warrior is the only one who can stand against the threat.
Relationships: Artemis/Percy Jackson
Series: Angel of the Galaxies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805785
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	1. The Bloody Truth

After the war, Percy’s life was normal. Well, as normal as a demigod’s life could be. Even though fans continuously swarmed his personal space and the way that everyone around him looked up to him as the unanimous _‘_ leader of all demigods’, he enjoyed his stay at Camp. The threat of Gaea was over, and his life could not get any better.

When the heroes came down off their adrenaline, they found themselves back in Camp Half-Blood – or rather – what was left of it. Gaea’s earthquakes had annihilated the buildings. The anger-induced swings of her arm left deep gouges in the fields. Half of the lake was gone, drained into the new ditch created by Festus, leaving many nymphs trapped in the still-wet sand like beached whales, flopping uselessly.

Despite the destruction, the danger was gone, and the Greeks and Romans had finally worked together, protecting each other and fighting as brothers and sisters.

“I guess we aren’t so different after all,” Percy said as he surveyed the demigods around him, seeing Romans and Greeks intermingled, the differences barely distinguishable. His statement had caused a ripple throughout the crowd, and without warning, they scooped him up onto their shoulders. Annabeth soon joined his side, just as confused as him. Their hands clasped tightly, to make sure that they do not drift apart as they surf the wave of demigods.

With Greeks and Romans beneath them, parading around the camp and singing songs of victory and cheer, Percy could not even begin to know what to think. Yes, he had fought on their side against Gaea and her horrendous children, the Giants. Yes, he had been the key member of the Seven. Moreover, yes, he had been the one who – when the shaking of the earth had knocked everyone else down – remained standing despite the ancient goddess’ overwhelming power.

He had been the one to spear Gaea through the chest with his blade. The one to lift her up with a pillar of water to keep her from healing. The one to come close to drowning for the second time in his life to protect his family, despite his immunity to drowning.

He groaned, already foreseeing his future of hero worship. At first, it would be endearing, but after a while, he would come to find it annoying. He would come to despise the pining and fawning of the girls – and even some of the boys. He would come to abhor the ceaseless entourage of younger campers, who insisted that they learn everything they could possibly know about his life.

He was right.

The next few days were Hades unleashed. His heart had never been running so fast - whether it was caused more by the danger posed to the young demigods that followed him into treacherous situations or by the unabated advances of teenagers of all cabins and origins - he didn’t know.

It was only until a whole three weeks had passed that he could finally relax. By then, the campers had reconstructed the two livelihoods as a single encampment and Percy had himself convinced that he would be able to kick back for a few days and enjoy the peace. If only he knew, what the Fates had in store for him...

* * *

The only sounds heard on Olympus was the gentle breeze rustling through the golden-leaved trees. There was the occasional issue of _Olympus Gazette_ drifting across the marble pathway, a page or two missing, but otherwise, the square was lifeless.

Within the throne room, heartbeats raged, but not a single soul spoke, in fear of facing the wrath of Zeus. The Olympian gods lounged in their thrones, though there was nothing relaxed about their positions. Most were stiff-backed and sitting on the front halves of their chairs.

The campers were there, too. Both Greeks and Romans, now united as a single force, stood in groups at the bases of their parent’s thrones. They shuffled awkwardly in the silence. The sound of shifting feet was the only resonance in the room.

Zeus scowled suddenly. Deep lines appeared on his forehead and around his mouth, as he grew ever more impatient. "Where is that boy?" he demanded, "How dare he ignore a direct summons from the gods? Hermes!" he called, turning to the god.

Hermes was startled, nearly jumping out of his throne. "Yes, father?" he asked, his voice cautious. Normally, Hermes wouldn’t be so edgy, but he could sense the tension in his father’s voice and opted to play it safe.

"Find the boy and bring him here. It’s time for him to face the consequences of his actions."

Hermes didn’t reply, only nodded, and disappeared from his throne. Accompanying his vanish was a bright flash of light, one which caused the demigods to shield their eyes in fear of disintegrating.

Seconds later, Hermes reappeared in an equally bright blaze. The light dimmed, revealing the god, standing in the centre of the room. Beside him was a boy – the boy whom Zeus had summoned.

Percy Jackson was laying on his side, his back facing the gods and campers. The door was the only thing that received a full view of him.

Hermes returned to his throne as Zeus addressed Percy. "You, boy! Stand and face me!" he demanded.

Despite the power in Zeus’ voice, Percy’s body remanded still, showing no signs of movement. In fact, his body showed barely any movement at all. Not even his chest was moving, though the gods didn’t notice.

Ares, equally as frustrated with the boy as his father, stood from his throne. He ambled towards the boy, stopping only when the tips of his boots just barely brushed the back of Percy’s loose-fitting blue shirt. Under his breath, he muttered something like ‘punk’, before rolling Percy’s body over with the cusp of his steel-toed boot.

Ares immediately stumbled back, very uncharacteristically. He sat down on his throne, muttering something about being surprised, but attention was immediately off him and on Percy.

Gasps rang out through the marble chamber, and many hands shot up to cover mouths. Percy’s front half was stained red, the discolouration slowly spreading across the front of his shirt. It had not yet dried, so obviously, the wound was fresh. His face looked dead already, striking fear into the hearts of everyone there. Eyes closed, skin ashen, and lips turning blue, Percy appeared slain. A long, pale scar stretched across his face. Halfway up his stomach, his hand grasped the hilt of a dagger, blood bubbling out through his fingers.

A new wave of anger etched itself into Zeus’ features. "What happened?" He turned in his throne, looking upon the shocked and distraught faces of his family. "Iris! Show us what happened!"

Though the goddess wasn’t there, a screen of mist appeared in front of them anyway. The face of a beautiful woman appeared – the goddess of the rainbow herself. She spoke, "You should know the whole story before I show you what happened to the poor boy," she said.

Her face faded, and the image reconstructed itself anew.

* * *

_Percy’s joyous face appeared, laughing frivolously. He was sitting around a campfire with his friends. There was a smile on his face from before the scar marred his handsome, rugged features._

_He held a prong in one hand, with a clump of marshmallows stuffed on the end, some white, some brown, and some burnt, as he’d forgotten about them in the midst of the story he was telling._

_He used his other hand to make gestures. A jovial gleam sparkled in his eyes._

* * *

_The image blurred for a moment, then cleared, revealing Percy once again. He was sitting on a bench on the beach, alone. The sky was darkening above him, moon rising and sun setting over the horizon. There weren’t quite stars in the sky, only ghosts of them, not yet ready to return from the underworld. There was a reflective look in his eyes as he stared out across the waves._

_Unexpectedly, a scream pierced the air._

_Percy’s head whipped around, towards the sound. He jumped up from his place and took off running. His feet hit the ground soundly, shifting sand hissing like snakes with each step. As he ran, Percy’s hand slid into his pocket, knuckles white as he gripped Riptide. Uncapping the pen, he held it in front of him. With a swift shinck the blade expanded. Polished bronze glowed in the darkness, reflecting the pale moonlight._

_He came to a stop as he rounded the corner around Thalia’s tree._

_Once he was at the peak of the hill, it was obvious what the source of the screaming was. A boy, about seventeen years old and built like a football jock, was racing up the hill, a shrill cry – shriller than expected from a boy his size – falling from his lips._

_"Get this beast away from me!" he screamed as his intense blue eyes fell upon Percy standing at the top of the hill. He sprinted a few more metres until he was directly behind Percy, pushing him towards the vicious beast he was running from. He was holding a small bronze dagger, but his grip was inexperienced, and Percy guessed that he’d never even held a weapon before._

_Percy looked back at the boy, a confused look in his eyes, before turning back to the monster. It was a hellhound. Barely a pup, really. Its eyes still glowed red, and its fur was still dark and matted, but its muzzle was soft and its muscles quite skimpy._

_"Woof!" it cried, trying to appear aggressive._

_Percy wasn’t amused, whereas the boy shivered in terror. "What the f-!" he began, only for Percy to clap a hand over his mouth._

_"Shh!" he said. "You’ll frighten the poor thing!"_

_The boy gave him an incredulous look. Pulling Percy’s hand off his mouth, he said, "Wha-?" Once again, though, Percy cut him off._

_"It’s just a puppy. It can’t hurt you," Percy hissed._

_He left the boy there, then, and approached the monster slowly, raising his sword in a non-threatening way. With his left hand, he reached up to put two fingers in his mouth, preparing to whistle._

_"What are you doing?" the boy screamed, "Kill it already!"_

_The loudness of his voice startled the pup, and it pounced at Percy, who, by reflex, slashed his sword. He stumbled back by the force of his swing cutting cleanly through the hound. There was a light puff of dust as his rear hit the ground, the poor pooch’s remains spraying over his face and chest._

_In the scuffle, his sword cluttered a few feet away from him, and the boy appeared behind him, still holding his dagger._

_Percy looked up at him. "You okay?" he asked._

_The boy looked down at him. His dark coif fell over his face, while the sides of his head were shaved. At first, his eyes held confusion, but as he was about to speak, the sound of footsteps became audible._

_Both demigods turned._

_Before the first camper had made it over the hill, the unknown demigod had puffed out his chest and hid away his fear._

_Annabeth was the first to run to Percy’s side. "Percy, what happened?" she asked, checking over his face and chest, seeing where the skin just above his right eyebrow had been grazed by gravel during his fall. "A sentry heard a scream and by the time he told Chiron, we all came running," she explained._

_Percy opened his mouth to speak, but the other boy beat him to it. "I saved his life!" he blurted._

_Everyone pivoted to face him, looks of confusion and shock on their faces. Percy’s eyebrows rocketed up to the peak of his forehead, but he said nothing, his surprise silencing him. The only movement he made, was to blink when a droplet of blood dribbled into his eye._

_"Uh...yeah! The thing was huge! Maybe ten feet tall!" the boy was slowly gaining confidence. He reached up as high as he could, trying to demonstrate how tall the monster had been. "He was just walking along when I came up the hill. Before I could introduce myself, the monster pounced, knocking him to the ground. Luckily my dad gave me this knife before sending me here because if not, this dude would probably be that monster’s dinner by now!"_

_Percy’s facial expression changed to one of disbelief. This demigod spun a tall tale, but how could he expect anyone to believe him? He pushed himself off the ground. "That’s not what happened," he said. "It was just a baby hellhound, not dangerous at all. Until you scared it and I had to kill it."_

_Chiron stepped forwards. "Percy, why don’t we get you to the infirmary. You probably hit your head very hard in the fall. Maybe you were just hallucinating. Your mind does tend to play tricks on you sometimes if I recall correctly."_

_Though Chiron said it in a joking manner, Percy couldn’t help but feel indignant. "I wasn’t imagining anything, Chiron, I swear! He’s lying!"_

_Chiron’s eyebrows furrowed. "What reason would he have to lie? He’s just a new camper after all. Give him a chance." Chiron called over an Apollo camper. "Bring him to the infirmary to get his head checked out," he said. The camper nodded, grabbing Percy’s arm. Just as he was about to lead Percy away, he was interrupted._

_Suddenly, a bright light lit up the night. Everyone turned towards the source of the light – a levitating hologram floating just above the new boy’s head. It was almost too bright to see the symbol itself, but Percy groaned as soon as he could distinguish it._

_A lightning bolt._

_Chiron’s attention was immediately diverted from Percy to ask the boy his name._

_"Damian Parker," he said, puffing out his chest a little more, despite the rips and tears in the fabric of his shirt._

_"All hail, Damian Parker," Chiron announced, "God of Thunder and ruler of the heavens, all hail the son of Zeus!" Directly after his declaration, Chiron took a knee, bowing his head in respect. The rest of the campers followed suit, and Percy was forced to genuflect as well._

* * *

_The next day, Percy trudged to the dining pavilion for breakfast. He had a bandage around his head, having hit it harder than he’d thought, resulting in a concussion. Of course, due to his head injury, no one believed him when he’d told them the truth about Damian’s story._

_He was sitting alone at his table, as usual, eating a bowl of cereal and occasionally sending Annabeth a longing glance, almost always receiving one in return._

_A shadow fell upon him. Looking up, Percy saw Damian standing over him, an unperturbed expression on his face. "Aren’t you going to thank me?" he asked. His eyes were narrowed at Percy, even though Percy was the one looking up into the sun._

_"For what?" Percy asked in reply. His head tilted to the side, causing a few strands of hair to flop out of place._

_Damian reached out and tapped on Percy’s head, none too gently. Percy flinched. "For this! If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be a whole lot worse off than just a little concussion!"_

_Percy winced at how stentorian his voice was. "I’m still convinced that you’re lying," he replied. "I know what I saw, and you weren’t the one to save me. Now, please either be quiet or leave me alone. I’m trying to eat my breakfast." The comment was offhand and calm, but it was layered with attitude._

_Damian’s face reddened slightly in his attempt to contain his anger. He pulled out his dagger, taking a step towards Percy and pressing the tip of the blade into his ribs. They were positioned in such a way that the weapon was hidden between their bodies, and it only seemed like Damian was only a little close to Percy for comfort._

_Even with the cold metal digging into his torso, Percy remained seated and nonchalant, much to Damian’s disappointment. Instead of surrendering, he said, "Would you mind removing your dagger from my person? I know you haven’t been here for long, but you must know that it is extremely rude to threaten a fellow camper unless in the arena for friendly sparring. So, unless you wish to spar, I suggest you go eat your breakfast."_

_Damian only dug the blade in deeper, beginning to draw blood. "You listen here, dude-"_

_He did not get a chance to finish, as Percy brought Riptide up to rest under his chin. The leaf-bladed sword appeared out of nowhere, Percy’s quick hand reaching into his pocket and uncapping it so fast that it had already started to expand as he took it out._

_"I’m going to ask you one last time," Percy said placidly. "Stop talking to me if you are just going to throw meaningless threats around."_

_Damian took a step back, quickly hiding his dagger as Percy stood up, sword staying at his opponent’s throat. He kept the sharp point against Damian’s tender skin for a few more seconds, just to add emphasis to his request, when two bright flashes of light interrupted them._

_Zeus and Poseidon stood directly in front of the two quarrelling demigods. Zeus was as intimidating as usual, with his dark suit and formal tie, gleaming golden. His face twisted into one of his signature scowls – one of the looks that demonstrated his ire for everyone around him._

_"How dare you threaten my son? He has only just arrived at this blasted camp!" he roared. The sky darkened immediately, thunder rumbling all around._

_Percy’s sword was gone in a flash of bronze. He was on his feet in seconds. "With all due respect, Lord Zeus, if you knew the whole story, you would realize-"_

_Percy’s attempt at an explanation was cut short._

_"Save it! I’ve seen enough to know that you think that you can just threaten my son without consequences!"_

_Percy looked at his father, desperate to find someone who would believe him. After a brief glance around the pavilion, he saw many eyes focused on him, mostly wide with alarm._

_"Dad-"_

_"Perseus," Poseidon said._

_Percy flinched at the sound of his full name._

_"I am greatly disappointed in your recent behaviour. First, you lie to discourage a new camper, and then you threaten him before he’s even had his first lesson in weapons training? You are supposed to be the role model for these children, but I cannot allow them to look up to someone of unsound mind. Until you can get your act together, you do not deserve the title of ‘hero’."_

_Percy looked as if he’d been physically struck, but the worst was still coming._

_"Until further notice, I disown you as my son!"_

_A tear slid down Percy’s cheek, and an intense burning filled his chest. His body glowed blue for a second, eliciting a strangled scream from his lips. Then, the light left his body in a single lustrous orb that flew over to Poseidon, settling in his hand before extinguishing._

_Meanwhile, Percy sank to his knees. His chest heaving, he stared at the ground, eyes wide as they faded to regular green, losing their lustre. He regained his breath after a few seconds, and stood, facing his- facing Poseidon. He left._

* * *

_It was over the next few days that Percy’s life got worse. Damian took it upon himself to ruin every aspect of Percy’s life, so he started to spread rumours about him. He told the newest campers lies about Percy, telling them that he couldn’t be trusted. He whispered falsified facts to the older campers, seeding them with doubts of their long-time friend. Soon, the entire camp was fuelled with the gossip that Damian had planted, all going according to his plan._

_At first, the effects were short term. If anyone was brave enough, they’d confront Percy, only to have him turn around in their face, looking confused and hurt. After a while, though, the lies weren’t so easily overturned or the truth, and Percy’s protests fell on deaf ears._

_Every time he stepped outside; rocks were pegged towards him. Garbage was flung and Percy didn’t know what to do other than avoid people. He stayed quiet and did his part, taking on extra chores for Chiron. He’d wash the dishes alongside the harpies, collect firewood every evening during dinner so that the campfire would have enough fuel to last through until curfew, and he volunteered to polish weapons and armour every other day. He took on anything and everything that he could to return to the camp’s favour. Any task to prove to them that he didn’t think himself above them as the rumours hinted at. He surrendered himself to a life of drudgery to prove to them that he wasn’t invincible, that he was just like them._

_Only Annabeth stood by his side. She was his light in the darkness. The dove in his audience of ravens. He knew in his heart that she would never betray him. She was impervious to the hearsay around camp. She was the only person he could trust._

_Of course, she wouldn’t betray him, but... would she? She’d been a bit distant lately. He didn’t know why, as she visited him every day, no matter where he was or what he happened to be doing, and she spent more time with him than ever, as his other friends had abandoned him. Maybe... No. he always cut off his thoughts as soon as they got to that point. She’d never betray him over meaningless chatter._

_Those rough few days brought him to the forest one misty twilight. His shoes crunched on the detritus, making a slow, pulsing rhythm to soothe his turbulent thoughts._

_He held a measly stack of firewood in his arms, making his rounds to clear the forest by collecting debris to use in the campfire. He hummed a quiet tune to himself, a habit he’d picked up recently in all his time alone._

_The only pause he made was when a sharp crack resonated through the otherwise silent forest. His shoulders tensed, muscles clenching in preparation for a fight. Years of instinct was hard to break, after all._

_Percy forced himself to relax. Maybe it was just a nymph. Or an animal. Or a camper deciding to break curfew. He was only out in the woods after dark because he had special permission from Chiron – and of course, he made friends with the harpies during his daily tasks; they weren’t bad once you got to know them._

_Another step through the darkened woodland, the only light bestowed by the waning moon, and Percy’s tension eased._

_He was alone._

_A hand grabbed him from behind, and with great force, swung him around, sending his collection of twigs in all directions. He felt knobbly bark behind him, the uneven points of integument dig into his back through his thin polo shirt. It was only September, so he’d taken to wearing loose, light shirts to help ease his work. Now, it seemed, the plan had backfired._

_As his vertigo subsided, Percy became aware of the large hands holding him in place. In a way, he was thankful, for if they hadn’t been there second ago, he’d have fallen to the ground, and, with his luck, hit his head again. Even so, if it weren’t for them, he’d not have been slammed into the tree, and he wouldn’t have needed hands to hold him up._

_He looked up as an evil-sounding laugh resonated through the night. It was Damian. His footsteps crunched on the forest floor, dark clothing reflecting no light, giving the illusion that he was only half there._

_Percy watched in horror as the shorter demigod approached him, his celestial bronze dagger glinting in the dull moonlight._

_"What are you doing?" Percy asked, his voice slightly slurred. The blunt force trauma to his head made his skull throb and he felt as if someone was playing pinball with his body, using his brain as the steel ovoid. The aftereffects of his concussion were coming back worse than ever._

_He looked around, trying to regain his bearings, forcing himself no to pass out. On either side of him, a large Hephaestus kid stood, holding his arms around the back of the tree. Percy attempted to struggle, but his energy was abandoning him. Even if he was at full strength, all the time in the forge made the two henchmen far stronger than he was._

_Damian didn’t answer right away, but when he came to stand in front of Percy, he slashed the front of Percy’s shirt open, exposing the refined skin of his torso. He brought the blade down to dig into the flesh of Percy’s left pectoral, drawing a horizontal line, then angling downwards._

_Percy grit his teeth, forcing a wail back down his throat._

_"You’re pathetic," Damian snarled, finally speaking. "How could they ever see you as a hero?" He pulled the dagger away from Percy’s chest, and then brought it over to the right, cutting diagonally. The line was jagged and sloppy, showing that Damian obviously did not have any experience in slicing someone open. Percy did not know whether that fact was a relief or a source of unease._

_The blade sunk deeper as Damian switched directions again, this time, the cut bringing a mangled cry from the hero’s lips. The sound brought a smirk to the lips of the son of Zeus._

_"Why don’t you just leave?" Damian continued, "Everyone here would just be better off without you. I mean," Damian paused so that he could focus on his bloody art, making smaller cuts vertically in the center of Percy’s chest, just above his navel. "No one here likes you anymore, so just go away."_

_Blood began pouring out of the cuts, dripping down Percy’s chest in steady streams, causing him to shiver. His shirt, now ruined, was slowly staining red, and whatever blood wasn’t absorbed into the fabric of his clothing or dried on the surface of his skin, fell down onto the grass._

_Without warning, Damian grabbed Percy’s right arm, pulling it out of the grip of the other demigod. It flailed for a second, trying to wiggle its way out of the cruel boy’s grip, but Damian held tightly, his fingers turning white around Percy’s wrist. Damian twisted Percy’s arm in front of his body, causing a groan to tumble from his lips._

_Deep cuts were made in Percy’s arm – deep enough to leave scars – sending waves of pain vibrating throughout his body. The cuts were precise, more so than the cuts on his chest, as they curved and stopped and started at seemingly random points. Whatever Damian was doing, it was inhumane._

_He stopped._

_Taking a step back, Damian admired his work. Percy’s arm was overflowing with blood, covering any marks that could have been there, so the son of Zeus pulled out and dirty dishcloth and roughly dragged it over the tender skin. He was inconsiderate of the pain the coarse fabric brought Percy, deaf to the whimpers that resonated from his hated enemy._

_Before fresh blood had time to bubble up once more, a single word was visible, delicately incised into Percy’s flesh. First, an M followed closely by U-R-D-E ending in R-E-R. Together, they spelled out a terrible name. A title given to the worst of men. From that moment, the word MURDERER would be forever engraved in Percy’s forearm._

_Percy stood horrified by the lie that would forever haunt him. An accusation would hang over his head for the remainder of his years, always bringing back bad memories and flashes of phantom-pain._

_Blood gushed out and covered the letters again._

_Damian sneered at the former son of Poseidon. "Now everyone will know what you really are." He nodded to the two sons of Hephaestus, who in turn dropped Percy to the ground. Looking down at Percy, Damian pulled back his foot and sent a swift kick to the former’s ribs. "Come on, guys," he said._

_The three boys left. It would be another few minutes before the harpies made their rounds, and they didn’t want to be outside when that happened._

_Percy lay slumped on the ground for a good few minutes before moving. He shifted, a low groan leaving his lips as his cuts tugged painfully. Twisting his body into a sitting position, Percy leaned his back against the tree, now, the pitted bark a comfort._

_Finally, as his strength slowly returned to him, he reached up, pulling the remains of his shirt off his body. He wrapped the ruined cloth around his still-bleeding arm in efforts to staunch the steady flow._

_Once the makeshift bandage was in place, wound tightly around the deep lacerations, he summoned the energy to stand, limping back to his cabin._


	2. The Final Straw

_The next day, Percy was faring no better. The bleeding from the previous night had stopped, but the pain in his heart did not go away. He needed to leave camp. Maybe his parents would provide him with some much-needed comfort. He knew that his mother was always on his side, and in the time that he had known Paul, the man had settled nicely into his heart, and vice versa. They still cared about him, unlike everyone else at camp._

_The first chance he got; Percy caught a taxi to the city. New York hadn’t changed at all since last, he’d been there, and the familiarity of the city he grew up in tugged at his heartstrings._

_He approached the apartment._

_Immediately upon entering, he knew that something was wrong. The air smelled stale, with just a hint of copper, tasting metallic on his tongue. He knew that smell and hoped against hope that he was wrong._

_Turning the corner into the living room, he gasped, falling back against the wall. The carpet, once a beautiful lavender, held a dark red stain. The discolouration led his eyes upwards, towards the couch, where Paul laid limply, his abdomen slit open._

_His once lively stepfather had an expression of pure horror on his face, eyes still open, forever staring at the terrible creature that caused his untimely demise._

_Before anything else, Percy crossed the room and laid a hand over his stepfather’s face, slowly closing his eyes. He shaped the man’s face into a peaceful expression and turned away, petrified by what else he might find._

_It only got worse from there. In the kitchen, his mother laid spread across the tile, her blood still pooling around her body. Her eyes had fallen closed, unlike Paul, and her hand still clutched a bronze dagger – the one he’d given her a few days before Hera kidnapped him months ago._

_Percy’s heart clenched. He fell to the floor, sobbing. Many thoughts ran through his head, though not even one focused on the way his mother’s blood was soaking into the denim of his jeans. His breath came in stuttered gasps and he forced himself to see straight as he stumbled over to his mother’s body, placing two coins into her hand and closing her fingers around the small metal disks. She would make Elysium for sure. Paul, too, and together they would be at peace for the rest of their existence, maybe even lead second lives._

_He stayed by her side for hours, it seemed, before finally standing. All he wanted was to go back to camp and hope that Annabeth would be able to comfort him. She would understand. She always understood._

* * *

_Back at camp, the first thing he did was seek out Annabeth. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in her soft blond curls and sob until his tears ran dry. He wanted to wrap his arms – weakened by grief and sorrow – around her body and feel hers – strong enough for both of them – wrap around him._

_First, he stopped by her cabin, knowing that it was the most likely place she would be. He must have looked like a mess, with tears streaked down his face and blood soaking his jeans from the knees down, but he didn’t care._

_"What do you want?" Malcolm asked as he answered the door. His face was passive with an underlining of hate for the man in front of him, though there was something else in his eyes. Pity? Percy’s eyes must have been playing tricks on him, as the flash of concern immediately extinguished on the blond boy’s face._

_"Is Annabeth here?"_

_There was the pity again. Percy did not know why it was there, but he wasn’t concerned. All he wanted was Annabeth._

_"She’s at the beach, but..." Malcolm paused, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He just closed the door after saying, "Be careful."_

_As Percy headed to the beach to find the love of his life, a look of deep thought overtook his face. So many thoughts were running through his mind. He had finally proved himself in the face of Athena, and he’d been planning to propose to Annabeth long before Damian arrived at camp._

_He pulled the small box out of his pocket and checked its contents. He angled the box in such a way so that no one else could see what was inside – holding his hands around it firmly._

_Closing the box, Percy came over the top of the hill where the grass turned to sand, and he stopped in his tracks._

_Annabeth sat a little way down the hill, just far enough from the tide but not too far away from the rolling waves. She was not alone, though. Damian sat next to her, a little too close for Percy’s liking. His mouth twisted into a growl. Just as he was about to confront them, he paused. Maybe it was platonic. They could have just stumbled upon each other and just decided to sit and watch the ocean together. He wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, especially about Annabeth._

_Damian suddenly leaned in, pressed his lips to the mouth of the other blonde-haired demigod._

_All at once, Percy’s theory halted. His eyes must be playing tricks on him. He couldn’t believe it. What was happening? He waited for her to shove Damian away. To slap him for kissing her. To threaten him with her knife._

_She did none of that. Instead, she kissed him back. The gentle pressure of his lips on her doubled as she pushed back with an equal amount of passion. They remained connected by their lips for several seconds before Damian broke it off, leaning away only enough to wrap his arm around her shoulders._

_"When are you going to dump that pathetic excuse for a demigod? You’re so much better off without him," Damian said._

_Annabeth’s reply brought dolour to Percy’s mood._

_"Don’t worry, Damian. Next time I see him, I will be sure to break it off with him. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him; he still follows me around like a lost puppy. It’s so annoying sometimes." Her voice was strange in Percy’s ears. There was an infatuation in her voice when she spoke to Damian that she’d never used when speaking to Percy._

_The sound of his breaking heart echoed through his ears. How...? Why...? Tears slipped down his face without him noticing and his mouth distorted into a dejected frown. Reaching into his pocket once more, he opened the box; this time, his hands wrapped around the bottom, leaving it open for all to see._

_It was a single blue diamond, perfectly shaped and positioned elegantly on a woven silver and gold band. On either side of the diamond were tiny hexagonal emeralds, nestled sweetly in the gaps between the two metals. It was perfect, custom-made by Hephaestus for the one and only love of his life._

_Percy slammed the box shut, physically turned his head away from the beautiful creation. He could not bear to look upon it any longer. "How could you, Annabeth?" he asked, his voice breaking._

_Annabeth whirled around, her eyes wide in shock. As soon as her grey orbs met Percy’s green ones, she opened her mouth to respond, but Percy cut her off._

_"I can’t believe that I was going to propose to you!" he yelled, "After all these years, you just decide to leave me for the next hero that comes trolling through!" He threw the box to the ground. The velvet hit the sand as Percy ran off into the woods, leaving Annabeth kneeling in the sand staring after him._

* * *

_Branches whacked at his face as he ran through the forest, deeper and deeper until he got to the edge of the boundary. Finally stopping, Percy looked up to see three people that he never wanted to see again. Hyperion, Oceanus, and Atlas stood in front of him, just outside the boundary._

_A crooked smirk overtook Hyperion’s features, his aura glowing a little brighter. "Well, well, well, boys, look what we’ve found! A little demigod all on his lonesome on the outskirts of their pathetic little camp."_

_Percy refused to answer. He just kept his head down, not willing to let them see his face._

_Anger seemed to well up within Hyperion, as his face reddened slightly, and his eyebrows lowered. "If you’re not going to answer then I’ll just have to use other means!"_

_His face settled into concentration for a moment, and Percy felt a stab of pain in his head, immediately knowing that the titan was reading his mind. He hated it when that happened, as he preferred to keep his innermost thoughts to himself._

_Hyperion let out a shuddering laugh suddenly, the sound a staccato in the music of laughter, though there was nothing light about it. "They’ve really done it now, haven’t they, boy?" he asked between spasms._

_The two remaining Titans were immensely confused, looking at their companion for answers. "What are you talking about?" Oceanus asked, "What have who done?"_

_"Those Olympians, of course! They have made a fatal mistake! They have broken their one and only hope to defeat us! You can see it in his eyes, it’s so clear to me now."_

_The two titans turn back to the hero in front of them, looking more closely at the boy. As they inspected him, the minute differences were much more obvious. He was thinner as if eating became less of a priority. Dark bags hung under his eyes; left by the clear lack of sleep he’d had over the past few nights. His shoulders, normally held straight, were slumped, the usual confidence absent._

_The real difference, however, was his eyes. The dull green no longer had the sparkle of life. Sorrow was prominent, with an undertone of self-loathing. The hopelessness was thick around him, almost oozing out of his pores._

_Hyperion abruptly spoke, "Why don’t you join us, hero? We can get revenge on those selfish, greedy, gods together. What do you say?"_

_Percy stared back at him, silent. There was not even a look of contemplation on his face._

_"No."_

_The three Titans almost stumbled backward in surprise, obviously not expecting the answer from the youth._

_"No? Did you just say no?" he asked. Hyperion leaned closer to Percy, trying to see if he had heard the demigod incorrectly._

_"Of course I said no. I would never join you. The gods may not be my allies anymore, but I would never join my enemies. No matter what they did to me, I wouldn’t want them gone if it means that you would take over," Percy replied._

_"Well," Atlas said, his voice dark, "They said that loyalty would be your downfall. I guess they were right." He then advanced upon Percy; spear clasped tightly in his fingers._

_Percy drew his sword as well, knowing that a fight would be unavoidable. He held Anaklusmos aloof, able to react swiftly when either of the Titans tried to attack him. Because of his small body, he moved faster than his bulkier opponents did._

_Countering an attack from Oceanus, Percy swung his sword at Hyperion, decapitating him. The Titan’s body fell one way while his head fell the other, rolling on the ground before disintegrating. There was still a glare on his face, aimed at Percy as he returned to Tartarus._

_Atlas attacked Percy next. There was anger in his movements; Percy could see that but also fear. Atlas feared Percy. He feared that he would be sent back to Tartarus, not able to return to centuries. He paused for a moment as the thought crossed his mind. It was only for a second, but that was enough for Percy. With a few quick slashes, Atlas was in multiple pieces, scattered over the clearing before his remains disappeared as well._

_Just then, as Percy was distracted, Oceanus took his chance. He spun around Percy’s body, jabbing a dagger straight into his chest. Percy gasped as the hilt smashed against his ribs, the tip of the dagger poking out behind him._

_He clenched his teeth._

_Sucking a breath in through his nostrils, Percy stabbed forwards with his blade, the cold bronze sinking into his adversary’s heart. Oceanus gasped, ichor spewing through his lips, coating his sick grin in the sticky golden substance. His body disintegrated, though his cackle still rung forth, echoing in Percy’s ears._

_The forest was silent for a moment, animals muted, and breeze stilled. Percy’s expression changed. Glassiness took over his eyes and sweat dripped down his forehead._

_He fell._

_His face pressed against the flattened grass; eyes half-closed. His soma curled into a fetal position, legs tucked in and arms nestled around the dagger in his chest. In the background, Zeus’ voice demanded his presence. He was to go to Olympus for a meeting. The voice faded as Percy’s expression sharpened. He struggled to get up, arms shaking. He was barely a foot off the ground before his limbs went limp beneath him._

_His body stilled, exhaustion taking over. Blood flowed out around the dagger; stream slowed only slightly by the stopper. Percy’s eyes slipped closed once more, this time, staying shut._

_Everything was still for several minutes before a flash of light revealed Hermes. The god stood behind Percy, looking down at his frame but not close enough for any details. He kneeled down, reaching out with one hand, barely touching the boy before both of them were teleported away._

_The image faded. The Iris message ended._


	3. The Passing of a Hero

The entire throne room was silent; not a single person dared to speak, move, or even breathe as the heavy realization of what they had done crashed down upon them. They had betrayed their greatest hero. Under their careless watch, he’d fallen into depression and despair. Hyperion spoke the truth. If another war was to come along, they wouldn’t stand a chance without their ultimate champion. Percy Jackson was defeated, but not by the enemy.

"Check on the boy at once, Apollo! We cannot let him die!"

Immediately, Apollo raced towards the fallen demigod’s body, falling to his knees and ignoring the blood as he checked Percy’s neck for a pulse.

Everyone waited in silence as the god of medicine worked.

Apollo sat back on his heels; head hung in defeat. "He has lost too much blood. Whereas the dagger missed his heart, it appears to have completely severed one of his lungs from its bronchus. As we speak, his right lung is flooding with blood. He’s going to die soon."

"Can’t you heal him?" Poseidon asked, his voice laced with desperation. His face was riddled with worry lines, and his mouth was turned into a grimace. What had he been thinking when he’d disowned his one and only son? His pride and joy?

Apollo shook his head. "Under normal circumstances, yes, but... usually, when I heal someone, they _want_ to be saved. Percy doesn’t. I can’t heal him, and I can’t even give him any ambrosia or nectar because, by all technicalities, he’s no longer half god. You made sure of that when you disowned him."

Apollo punctuated his statement with a glare at the god of the seas. While still feeling guilt in his heart for not doing anything to help the hero, Apollo was never directly responsible for Percy’s imminent demise.

Hades stepped forwards, standing from his throne. "Apollo is right; the boy no longer wishes to be alive. I can feel his life force draining. His soul could leave his body any second now."

Nico just nodded along with his father. "I can feel it, too," he said.

Tears filled the eyes of the bystanders, all looking down at their former hero with dreary sorrow. Everyone was crying, or close to it.

Everyone, that is, except Damian. "Who cares?" he asked. "You have me! I can defeat anything that comes at me! I’m better than that Jackson kid ever was," he boasted.

Immediately, all eyes turned to him, rage brewing beneath the surface.

"You are nowhere _near_ the man that Percy was! I can’t _believe_ that I ever chose you over him!" Annabeth screamed, turning on the son of Zeus.

She paused suddenly, her eyes widening. There was a spark of something on her face, but it was unrecognizable to the naked eye. She paced, muttering to herself.

"Why _did_ I choose Damian over Percy. I don’t even remember what happened very well... I was at breakfast that morning and... What was I doing? Talking to Malcolm and... Damian handed me a drink. I just took a sip..."

She turned towards Damian, as did everyone else, renewed anger in her eyes.

Damian shrugged. "Thought you needed a little push to realize your true feelings," he said nonchalantly.

"How _dare_ you?" Annabeth screeched. She drew her draken bone sword and jutted the tip directly under his chin. "You! You!" She could barely contain her rage. "You slipped me a _love potion_ and _that’s_ your explanation?"

She pulled her sword back and went to slice his head clean off his shoulders when a strong hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She turned sharply, her eyes flashing with loathing. It was Malcolm, her half-brother. He merely shook his head, sending her a message using only his eyes. Annabeth relaxed.

Suddenly, Thalia ran over to Percy. "Come on Kelp Head! I’m not letting you die!" she screamed. Collapsing to her knees right next to her friend, she gathered sparks in her hands. "If you die," she said, tears gathering in her eyes, "Who will I have to argue with?" With that, she pressed her hands to his chest, sending electricity rippling through him.

Percy’s body lurched. Then falls limp once more.

A tear dripped down Thalia’s face.

Percy’s body jolted a second time. However, this round the movement was accompanied by a heaving breath, long and raspy. Percy was breathing. He was breathing...and he was muttering.

Everyone immediately gathered around to listen.

"I’m sorry..." he croaked, "I’m sorry that I’m a disappointment... I’m sorry that I was not a good enough son... I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good enough boyfriend... I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good enough saviour... I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough... I just hope everyone is happy once I’m gone. It’s what they want... right? But it’s okay. I forgive you... I forgive all of you..." Percy’s last breath faded on his lips and his body fell limp once more.

Hades visibly winced. Nico fell to his knees at his cousin’s side, sobbing into her silver jacket.

Percy Jackson was dead.

Poseidon pushed through the crowd. He had been one of the only ones that had kept their distance, not being able to bear the final words of his dying son. He’d heard them anyway and truly regretted his decision.

He scooped his son’s body into his arms, holding the cooling body tightly against his chest. "No! Please! He can’t be gone! He can’t be! I need to tell him I’m sorry! I need to fix my mistakes! Please don’t take my son away from me! I’m sorry!" he sobbed, "I - I’m so sorry!"

The sea god sobbed for a great length of time before a few minor gods came forwards to prepare Percy’s body for its shroud and ceremony.

As soon as the throne room door closed, the Fates appeared, accompanied by a bright flash of light. They stood in a triangle, the two in the back holding what appeared to be a woollen loop between them. It was woven out of the finest looking sea green thread, intertwined with gold and silver. The one in the middle was holding a large pair of shears, where she’d snipped the woollen ring from its feeding ball of yarn.

The ring itself was woven strong and thick, but by the time it got around to the last layer, leading into the final thread, the string was loose and scraggly. The cut end was frayed.

"He was a hero, in life," Atropos said, the shears held aloft in her hand.

"Pity that his time had come, but it was necessary," Lachesis finished.

Poseidon was on his feet in an instant, rushing towards the Fates in a fit of rage, but they vanished before he had the chance to wrap his hands around their throats. The floor shook as he fell to his knees, complete and utter hopelessness washing over him.

Suddenly, a voice boomed throughout the throne room. It was loud and deep but had an underscore of pride and a hint of something dark, like evil incarnated.

_"Why, thank you, Olympians. You have caused your own undoing. Now that your pesky hero is out of the way, I can finally have the vengeance I deserve. Though you’ll have to be a little more patient with your annihilation. Don’t worry. It will come in good time."_

An evil laugh punctuated the mysterious man’s words, allowing a sense of dread to fall over everyone in the room.

* * *

"I’m sorry... I’m sorry that I’m a disappointment... I’m sorry that I was not a good enough son... I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good enough boyfriend... I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good enough saviour... I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough... I just hope everyone is happy once I’m gone. It’s what they want... right? But it’s okay. I forgive you... I forgive all of you..." Percy’s last breath faded on his lips and his body fell limp once more.

His eyes remained closed as he spoke, but he knew that they were all around him. Even after everything that they’d done to him, he couldn’t find it within himself to hate them. They had, after all, been his family for so many years. He couldn’t blame them for his destiny. He couldn’t blame them for leaving him to find a new hero. It was the natural cycle of the world. He’d survived the impossible. He was too powerful; therefore, he was either chosen to be made immortal or surrender to the end of his days.

Death was his choice.

At least his final words would bring them closure about their crimes against him. He hoped.

As the door to his old life closed, Percy let himself be whisked away. His soul would be taken to the Underworld and he would be able to join his parents in the afterlife. A light shone in his mind’s eye, dancing with dark spots.

Over the past few weeks, Percy had imagined what it would be like to die. Not that he was debating ending his own life. No. In his opinion, that was the coward’s way out. If he was to die, he wanted to die for a cause. Saving the Olympians from the three resurrected Titans he’d encountered was sacrifice enough. They might even remember him for what he was and not what they’d projected upon him.

As he debated his own existence with himself, the bright light was getting larger. Soon, he was surrounded by the light, everything in all directions an empty canvas. Maybe this is what life was like before a soul was dropped in front of the DOA Recording Studios. He could see the building in sight. Only the building, a small speck in this white world. It got closer and he reached out, only for it to be ripped away again as he felt a tug on his soul. Something was pulling him away.

Percy closed off his mind’s eye as the light became too much. He started to panic. Where was he? Everything was so strange around him. It couldn’t just all be in his head! Where was his peace?

 _"Be calm, my child. You will be safe here."_ It was a woman’s voice, soft and caring, and for a second, Percy almost thought that it was his mother.

Opening his eyes once more, he saw that he was not just a view in an empty world. He had a physical form. White cotton clothing – a toga, he assumed – had formed around him, the blood clean from his body and his wounds healed. He turned, seeing two figures behind him. A man and a woman.

Both seemed powerful; Percy could sense their strength in their auras, but he could also feel an overwhelming sense of peace and security. Whoever these two people were, they made him feel safe.

All on its own, his body moved, feet lifting and taking steps towards them, closing the distance. He didn’t try to stop himself, for the closer he got to them, the more serene he felt. The less his chest ached with sorrow. The pain of his past was fading away with each step, though the memories carried on.

"It is all right now, my son. Are you feeling better?" the woman asked as he stopped in front of her.

Percy nodded, finally giving himself the chance to really look at them.

The woman wore a white dress with a cyan sash, giving her a splash of colour that this strange world didn’t have. Her hair, the colour of molten chocolate, was curled to perfection, held up by multiple golden pins. Her face was a vision, the most beautiful woman he’d ever gazed upon, though the most stunning thing about her were her eyes. They matched her sash, the same cyan colour, by under closer observation, Percy could see specks of navy and silver floating around her dark pupils.

The man beside her was almost the exact opposite. He also wore white, and his hair was only slightly darker than hers, but his eyes were deep crimson, specks of black and orange lighting and extinguishing deep in his red orbs.

Even so, both gave off the feeling of absolute peace.

The woman smiled. "Good. I was worried that we would be too late to save you."

Percy frowned at her statement. "Too late to save me?" he asked, "What you do mean by that?"

"All in good time, my son," the man said, "Before we can begin to explain, we must first introduce ourselves. My name is Chaos and this lovely lady beside me is my sister and wife, Order."

Percy nodded. The facts weren’t really settling with him well, but he knew that eventually, everything would sink in and he’d feel even more confused than he was already. Better to just sit and nod. Or... just nod, seeing as there was nowhere to sit.

As if sensing his thoughts, Order looked around, as if also noticing the lack of furniture. "Oh, dear me," she said, "Why don’t we go somewhere much more comfortable?" She closed her eyes and suddenly Percy was sitting in a very comfy chair and surrounding them – instead of a desolate white wasteland – was a modern living room, complete with a fuzzy carpet, a warm, roaring fireplace, and a few paintings hanging on the walls.

Percy’s thoughts returned to him by the change in scenery. He knew who they were and sprung out of his chair to kneel before them. He only prayed that they would forgive him for his inappropriate behaviour in front of the sole creators of the universe.

"Please, rise, my son. We do not require you to bow before us," The man – Chaos, Percy reminded himself – replied in answer to Percy’s actions. Maybe it was a test. Should he stand? Many thoughts raged through Percy’s head as he stood hesitantly, whole body tense in expectation of being disintegrated.

As soon as he was at full height without having been blasted into a pile of ash, Percy allowed himself to relax. Chaos and Order were smiling at him, not threatening him in any way. Good.

"Why have you appeared to me?" he asked. "What makes me so special? I just lost all my family and friends for being nothing but worthless." Percy looked down, hanging his head as to not let the two powerful deities see the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

"Perseus, we are very secretive beings, so you may not know that we play a much larger hand in fate than other immortals. Unfortunately, our own laws against direct interference bind us, so to act and right the balance of the universe when the scales tip, we created an army. All our soldiers were handpicked to train with us in our dimension and when we need them to stand and fight for the greater good, they do whatever they can," Order explained.

"I still don’t understand what that has to do with me," Percy replied, crossing his arms.

"Recently, after many centuries of service, our commander perished. Order and I decided that you would be the perfect candidate for his replacement."

"What?" Percy almost choked on his own saliva. "Why me?" he stuttered.

"Well, you wouldn’t become commander right away. First, you’d become a soldier, and slowly work your way up the ranks, but we feel as if you’d be the best suited to replace our previous commander," Chaos continued.

"But why choose me in the first place? I don’t have what it takes to lead a superpowered army. Eventually, they’ll turn on me, too. That’s what everyone does to me."

"Because, Perseus, you are a hero. You are loyal to a fault and you serve justice where it is due. You may not be perfect, Perseus, but every man has their flaws. It is how they overcome their flaws that makes them great."

Percy looked down, blushing slightly at the flattery. "I just want to help people, but... what if they don’t want _my_ help?"

"There is nothing wrong with saving someone. Every soul deserves a chance to live. That is why we created this universe. We wanted to inspire life and love, not death and fear. No one is born evil, Perseus. They are made that way by loss and hate and indifference. You can stop all that. Little by little, we will bring back the better world," Order said.

Percy looked up at the kind woman in front of him. He nodded. "I will join your army."

As soon as he agreed, the two immortals nodded at one another and shot two beams of light at him, one black and one white, which merged together in a swirling jet of colours. The light entered his body, directly in the center of his chest, and overwhelming pain took over.

"What is happening?" he cried, falling to his knees and turtling his body. His hands desperately clutched at his chest, ripping the front of his shirt open to see veins of colour were spreading over his body, originating from the central point on his chest where the beam of light had merged with him.

Pure agony ripped from his throat; his vocal cords nearly raw after one scream. The sensation of all the pain he’d ever experienced in his life reappeared in his mind, but nothing was worse than that moment. His body was being torn, piece by torturous piece.

Suddenly, it was over.

The pain was gone. His nerve endings numb. His fingers were still one the ends of his hands, his hands on the ends of his arms, his arms still at his sides, but he couldn’t feel them. He couldn’t feel anything, as if his spirit has fled his body in attempts to rid itself of the pain he was feeling.

Snapping back to reality, Percy felt his soul being vacuumed back into his body, feeling colder but otherwise the same as he had when he’d first arrived in the dreamscape with the two deities. Looking around, he linked the black spots away from his eyes and sat up to see Order and Chaos looking at him with deep concern in their eyes.

"Are you alright, my child? We apologize, normally the process does not hurt. We do not know what could have happened," Order said, taking a cautious step towards the demigod.

Percy smiled reassuringly. "It’s all right. I feel much better now, anyway, but...something is different..." he said, abruptly realizing that he did indeed feel slightly different than before.

His arms and legs were still in one piece. His head was resting on his shoulders the right way. What could possibly be wrong? He turned, trying to see if anything was different in his motor skills, and that was when he noticed.

His clothes were different, and there was something on his back. An…extra limb almost. He looked down to see that, like Chaos, he was wearing a set of robes, all-white silk with a splash of colour along his belt, which shone a glorious sea green, matching his eyes.

He flexed his muscles, feeling the extra limbs along his back moving. It was as simple as wiggling his fingers or clenching his fists, but it was downplayed by the sensation that he could only match with the feeling of first learning to walk. What had they done? Given him two new arms or something? How could this possibly help?

Twisting his head instead of his whole body, Percy was met with a face full of feathers. "What?" he cried out, his voice slightly muffled by the unexpected plumage.

Flexing the muscles again, Percy watched as the feathery appendages moved away from his face, folding up behind him like a bird. He had wings. Large, black wings, twitching and fidgeting as if sensing his own anxiety at the revelation that he was probably now half-bird.

They were based around his shoulder blades, and he could feel their weight, the rippling muscles tensing and relaxing beneath their layered cover of down and quills. He flexed them once more, and the wings unfolded, flapped once and returned to their previous positions.

He spun around, looking at Chaos and Order with a face of pure awe. "I love them!" he cried, throwing himself into their arms. He wanted to prove to them how much he appreciated their care for him, especially after what he’d been through.

Almost immediately, he pulled back, just realizing what he had done. "Sorry," he mumbled, his whole body tensing as he looked down, not wanting to meet the eyes of the two powerful beings in front of him.

Order moved closer, and for a second Percy thought that she would smite him where he stood, but he just felt warm arms wrap around him, pulling him closer to her body.

He relaxed into her embrace, and even more tension drained from his body as he felt another pair of strong arms wrap around him. He’d just met these two beings and they were already exposing him to the familial love that he’d been craving over the past few days. His real parents were gone, he knew that, but his mother would not want him to be sad. Chaos and Order would never take the places of her and Paul, but they would do.

They held him tight, the three of them wrapped in a close embrace and Percy knew, then, that everything would be just fine. He’d help the world and he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

* * *

Mere moments after Percy’s body was taken away and the Fates had said their piece, silence reigned. Poseidon remained sobbing on the floor of the throne room, but his heart-wrenching wails had fallen silent to everyone around him.

Breaking the sorrowful calm, a frantic servant burst through the throne room doors once more. "My lords! My ladies! The boy’s body has vanished!" he exclaimed, panic clear in his wild eyes.

Poseidon rose immediately, his tears evaporating. "What?" he bellowed. He rushed out of the room, followed by Annabeth and the servant.

As the remainder of the audience waited in tense silence, they could almost hear the faint ticking of a clock, seconds passing as if time were flowing through honey. Damian broke the silence.

"What does it matter if his body’s gone? He’s already dead, isn’t he?" he asked insensitively.

Before his mouth even had a chance to close, almost twenty different people had jumped on him, fueled by utter rage. By the time they were restrained, Damian was unconscious on the marble floor, multiple cuts and bruises decorating his body. Blood leaked down, leaving small trails down his face and limbs.

Seconds passed and this time, it was Poseidon and Annabeth who broke it. They returned, heads hung low and tears in their eyes once more.

"Well?" Zeus prompted, his voice surprisingly soft as he addressed his brother and granddaughter.

Poseidon shook his head. Choking back a heart-wrenching sob, he shook his head. "He’s gone," he breathed, stuttering his response. He made his way slowly across the throne room, no one stopping him on the way to his seat. He collapsed in his throne; head pressed down into his hands as his shoulders shook from silent sobs.

As soon as his news was delivered, everyone was frozen. Everyone except one: Artemis. She fled, one hand held over her eyes to hide her face as she dashed from the room. If anyone had looked at her closely, they would’ve seen the tears sliding down her cheeks.

Several more minutes of sorrow slipped by before Zeus spoke, his voice low. "Let this be an example to all what happens when we do not care for our children. I hereby propose a change in our laws. We shall vote to remove the law against godly interaction with their children. We will care for and love our children in a way that has never been seen in history. I hope that this will prevent any more catastrophes like this one."

"Those in favour?"

Every hand rose, even those of the demigods, who, despite knowing that their votes wouldn’t count, felt the need to be heard. After the unanimous decision, the gods teleported to Camp Half-Blood, ready and willing to fulfill the last wish of the great Perseus Jackson.


	4. A Whole New Life

In hindsight, Percy should’ve expected something to happen between the time of his hug with the two most powerful beings in the universe and his swearing into their army.

Unfortunately, as he pulled away from the warm embrace they shared, he almost fainted in surprise to see that they were no longer in the same place as before. Instead, they were standing in the middle of a busy street, people of all sorts walking around them.

The buildings were tall on either side of them, carved from rustic bricks along the bottom and panelled wood along the top. Further down the road the rural buildings melted away into modern skyscrapers, then to Japanese pagodas and then to Greek cottages.

Percy was in awe. It was the whole world in one city. He turned in his place, wide-eyed at all he saw. The people around them wore clothing of all colours and styles, smiles on their faces as they went about their usual business, either shopping in the open market down one of the side streets or carrying bags or briefcases on their way to and from work. Percy even saw a group of what appeared to be preschoolers walk past, all dressed in bright matching shirts as they toddled along down the road.

As he focused on the people, Percy could see that they all seemed different, even more so than just the differences in their style. He saw one man covered entirely in blue fur. He saw a woman with elfish ears and red eyes pushing a stroller. He saw a family of four, all human-looking, but upon closer inspection, he saw that they had fangs and their noses glistened a shade darker than the rest of their faces.

"Where are we?" His question was stuttered by his wonderment.

"This is Cofando, the first planet," Chaos said. He had an amused smile on his face as he watched Percy’s range of expressions as the boy’s emotions changed every passing second.

Percy turned to look at the two creators, who remained in their places behind him. Beyond them, his eyes caught sight of a glorious castle at the end of the long road.

The castle was one of legend. It stood tall and proud, the three suns – one red, one yellow, and one blue – shining down on it, creating an array of colours to wash over the towers. Like the avenue, the castle was made in the image of Earth’s architecture. It even had a few otherworldly aspects to it. The two tallest towers stood side by side, a bridge connecting them right at the top. Below them, more towers rose to point to the sky, standing as if layered on. It was like the architect couldn’t decide what they wanted it to look like, so they left it unfinished and allowed others to come in to add to it throughout the years following its initial construction.

Percy turned back to the two immortals as they began walking towards the palace, about to ask his questions, but Order beat him to it.

"We had it built to represent the evolution of time and culture. It started with a basic castle, one where we could reside and train our warriors, but as the civilizations of all the planets grew more sophisticated, so did it. It keeps updating itself, along with the city around it. Sometimes, if it likes a design, it’ll keep it and build anew around it," she explained.

Percy nodded, not really understanding, but it was logical enough. "So that castle has a mind of its own?"

Chaos inclined his head. "The castle itself is sentient, yes," he said. Then, he turned to a merchant and pulled out a few crisp bills from his pocket, offering them to the man in exchange for three strange fruits. At least, Percy could only assume that they were fruits.

Chaos returned to them as they continued their way, offering one of the fruits to Order and the other to Percy. Percy held the chunk of food in his hands, staring at it as the two immortals brought theirs to their mouths and sunk their teeth in.

Chaos chewed for a moment before swallowing. "They are called dragon berries. Very tasty. Go on, try a bite," he coaxed.

Percy looked back down at his hands. The dragon berry was about the size of an apple, though it had the shape and texture of a hedgehog. It was covered in a coarse peel, and squeezing it slightly, he wondered if his teeth were even strong enough to pierce it. Shrugging, he brought it to his mouth and chomped.

The skin gave way under his teeth far easier than he thought, and suddenly, the berry’s juices exploded in his mouth, soaking into his taste buds. His first experience came as overwhelming heat. The sensation of the fleshy fruit on his tongue sent shocks throughout his mouth, and he almost spat it out but managed to force himself through the surprise. He swallowed the chunk without chewing and winced as it slowly crawled down his throat, getting stuck only once.

His grimaced, almost feeling the thud as the fruit landed in his stomach.

The two immortals laughed, stopping as they threw their heads back in hysteria.

"Dragon berries are an... acquired taste," Order said as she held back her giggles. However, holding her delicate hand over her lips did nothing to stop the series of chuckles from spewing forth.

Chaos, finally containing his laughter, spoke next. "All our soldiers live and train within the castle walls. We have many barracks in the courtyards for the lower troops, while our high-ranking officers live in the castle directly."

Percy nodded; his eyes focused on the building in front of him. He’d seen big buildings before. He’d lived in New York City, he’d visited Greece, he’d even been to Olympus a few times, but this castle was something else. It stood tall and proud, rising from the ground in a collection of towers and walls.

Ahead of the trio, a squadron of soldiers approached the wall. Each held up their right hand, crossing it over their chests, walking directly towards the barrier.

For a second, Percy’s instincts told him to call out, to warn them, but he didn’t, and was shocked to see that instead of smacking into the solid bricks, the soldiers disappeared straight through! It was like something out of Harry Potter!

Percy’s jaw dropped. "What?" he stuttered. "Since when do you have Platform 9 ¾ on this planet? That’s awesome!"

Order smiled. "Yes, we thought so, too. You see, a while ago, Chaos was obsessed with the work of J. K. Rowling, so he decided to put that in. Only members of the army can pass through, as they are each given a special amulet to allow them to merge with the matter of the wall and pass through."

Percy eyebrows furrowed. "Then how will I get through? How do any new members get through? Don’t we have to go inside so that I can get this amulet?"

Chaos considered Percy’s point, tilting his head from side to side slightly as he thought. "No. We can easily get you through the wall, all you’d have to do is hold on tight. It’s a little disorienting the first few times. It may induce vertigo so just as a caution, I suggest you hold on tightly."

Before Percy had a chance to process what he’d just heard, the taller man grabbed his upper arm and dragged him towards the wall.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" he screamed as the bricks got closer. He knew what he’d just seen, but that did nothing to convince him or his instincts that he would smack face-first into the wall and break his nose. His brain was telling him that he’d crash and really get a concussion, even worse than the last one, which had thankfully been healed since his death.

He tried to plant his feet, but it seemed as if the ground had disappeared underneath him. Looking down, he saw himself sliding on a glassy, almost frictionless surface, preventing him from slowing down. Any attempts to stop were squashed and Percy closed his eyes, using his free arms to protect his face.

Then, suddenly, he stopped. His feet met the solid ground, the wind in his face died, and his body was upright, no longer dragged by Chaos.

Cautiously opening his eyes, Percy was met with a tunnel, slightly dark but lit by a string of blue-flamed torches. Walking down the hallway alongside the two most powerful beings in the universe, Percy pictured his situation as something out of children’s dreams. As a little boy, he’d often imagine himself as a powerful king with a heavily fortified castle, defending from enemy combatants. He’d imagined high, thick walls, secret tunnels, and rows upon rows of his powerful troops. This place had all those things and more.

He was only broken out of his reverie as Chaos spoke. "This is our preliminary line of defence. Whenever the city is under attack, we have all our people come in here for their own protection. Under those circumstances, we must set the wall to accept all our people – those who are registered and cleared of traitorous behaviour. Doing so will also open it up into barracks for them to live, leaving the inner wall to protect the castle while our troops take care of the danger," he explained.

Percy was intrigued by everything around him, so drawn in by the glamour and wonder of it all. Finally, they reached the end of the pathway, reaching what appeared to be a dead end. Percy threw Chaos a questioning glance.

"It’s the same as the entrance," Chaos replied.

Percy nodded, walking towards the wall. For a second, he wondered if it was a practical joke, but he didn’t hit anything solid, so he found it safe to open his eyes once again, not having even noticed closing them.

In front of him was a wide-open area, the ground covered in fine gravel. The outer walls stood high around them, and straight ahead was the castle.

"These are our training grounds. The soldiers live in the barracks that are along the sides – do you see them?"

Percy turned his head, immediately nodding as he saw the rows of buildings along the edges of the walls. He saw men and women in armour walking in and out through the doors of the buildings.

As they entered the courtyard, all motion stopped. Every warrior froze and immediately turned to them, then fell into rows of twenty. Once in position, everyone dropped to their knees. Percy’s eyes gravitated to the nine warriors at the front of the group, all adorned with fancier armour. Though he made a note of their status due to their garb, the most interesting thing about these warriors were the large wings resting on their shoulders, folded neatly behind them. Unlike his, their wings were white like freshly fallen snow.

"You may rise," Chaos addressed them, raising his hand to wave off their actions.

The warriors rose, backs straight, though more relaxed than before. Their postures were not those of soldiers in an army back on earth, but of a group of close companions, all of whom knew each other well and would defend each other with their lives. Percy smiled at the thought.

The nine warriors in the front shifted uneasily, confusing Percy. They sent him skittish looks. Were they uncomfortable with him around? Was it his wings? Maybe it was because his feathers were a different colour than theirs. He’d just thought that the feathers were meant to match his hair, but he was starting to have his doubts.

Finally, one of the warriors spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen over the courtyard. "My lord, my lady, what brings you to the training grounds? And, may we ask, who is this?" The voice was feminine, but that was all that Percy could tell, as she wore a mask and a hood.

"Good afternoon, Evangeline," Order greeted kindly, "Today, we have chosen a new warrior for the army. He is very special. We believe that he will become a great sergeant. He, of course, was a great hero on earth and has shown that his loyalty and honour know no bounds. Therefore, he will be judged by the Throne of Power."

After she finished speaking, the only sounds that could be heard were the many gasps that left the soldier’s mouths. Percy raised an eyebrow. Apparently, being judged by the Throne of Power was a big deal.

"He will begin as a foot soldier and will work up the ranks. Once he proves himself, he will be judged," Chaos said.

Percy took a cautious step, though he tried to keep his back straight as he faced the soldiers in front of him, who were all staring at him. He squirmed slightly under all the attention.

"Could they stop staring?" he asked weakly, "I don’t feel very comfortable with this..."

There was a moment of silence as a few soldiers averted their eyes, though others didn’t seem to care, still staring unabashedly at him. Suddenly, someone called out from the crowd, "Why are his wings black? That’s pretty weird!"

At the comment, Percy looked back at his wings and they flapped a little, the feathers ruffling.

Thankfully, Order stepped forwards to explain. "As you all know, there are things in the Universe that even Chaos and I do not have control over. The chosen heir to our power is one of those things."

Her words caused a slight murmur to ripple through the crowd of soldiers.

"With that being said, a prophecy was told millennia ago that one day we would find our heir and they would be blessed with black wings and a connection to the creature known as the Shadow Lord," Chaos continued.

The looks that Percy received were turning aghast, and he shrunk behind Chaos’ bulky form, trying to hide. Chaos turned to him, confused by his actions before laughing loudly.

"Everyone, back to training!" he called, and Percy physically relaxed as the soldiers dispersed.

Then, the two powerful beings led the way directly across the courtyard, where the entrance to the castle stood tall and proud. The doors were made of heavy metal, engraved to look like wood though ingrained with what seemed to be lava flowing through the cracks along its surface.

Percy was in awe once more as he stared up at the castle, which was only much more impressive on the inside. The hallways were tall and wide, nicely decorated to give off an aura of calm and elegance. The red carpet shone brilliantly under their feet and Percy ran his hand over the smooth marble of the columns along the wall, surprised by their almost frictionless, glass-like texture.

On the way through the building, Percy almost lost the two deities a number of times. Twelve times, in fact, though Percy would never admit it. He had reasons though, as there were so many doors, staircases, and winding corridors that anyone would get lost, especially on their first day.

Finally reaching where they were obviously meant to be, Chaos and Order entered an office, both leisurely making their ways to sit in large office chairs behind a glassy black desk.

Percy was finally snapped out of his fascination as Chaos cleared his throat, catching the young ex demigod’s attention. Chaos waved his hand towards the chair that sat opposite to his and Order’s. Percy was quick to sit.

"We now instate you as a foot soldier in our army," Order said, "You will serve in our forces for the next year or so, depending on how you do, you will move up in ranking to become worthy of being our sergeant in the eyes of the army. When you reach that point, you will be sent on a dangerous mission. If you succeed, you will be judged by the Throne of Power."

Percy nodded.

"Training begins bright and early tomorrow morning. You should get some rest," Chaos informed him. He then smiled at the teen and snapped his fingers, causing a swirling black portal to materialize to their left.

Percy gave the portal an uneasy look. His eyes shifted back and forth between the vortex and Chaos, but the other man just kept smiling as he gestured to the portal as if to say, ‘after you’. Percy gulped, only succeeding in making Chaos chuckle. He stepped forwards anyway, entering the portal.

As he stepped into the swirling mess of colours, Percy immediately felt his stomach drop into his gut and then shoot up into his throat, giving him the worst feeling of nausea that he’d ever experienced. He was being tossed left and right through the wormhole chamber that they’d entered.

As he flipped back around, Percy could see Chaos and Order following closely behind him, but instead, they were floating calmly in the center of the passageway. They both look thoroughly amused as they watched him; Order even had her hand in front of her mouth, as if trying desperately to contain her laughter. ‘Spoiler alert,’ Percy thought, ‘It isn’t working.’

He was still facing them as the portal ended, unfortunately, so as he exited, he landed on his butt, hard. Standing slowly, he groaned, rubbing his derriere to try and ease the pain.

The pain faded, though only slightly, allowing Percy the chance to look around. He was in a small-ish room, with a bed and a desk and a wardrobe. Though it was small, it looked comfy, as it was decorated. Percy smiled at the picture on the wall – a painting of a basket of fruit. Stereotypical, he knew, but the amusing part about it was that he spotted a dragon berry in the bowl next to a strange blue banana-looking thing.

"It’s not much, but it’s standard for our foot soldiers. You’ll receive a larger room if you wish when you move up in ranking. For now, enjoy and get some sleep. You’ll need it for tomorrow," Chaos said.

Percy froze, turning towards the two immortal beings. "Wait," he said, "You mean that this room is mine?"

Order nodded, a small smile on her face. "Do you like it?" she asked.

A grin broke out on Percy’s face, nearly splitting him from one ear to the other. "Are you kidding? I love it!" he exclaimed excitedly. He jumped up happily but was quickly reduced to groans as he clutched his rear, feeling the throbbing in his seat bones return. Despite their look, the floors were hard.

Order chuckled once again before waving her hand. There was a blast of sparks, and suddenly, Percy felt fine. He sighed, relieved.

"Thank you," he said gratefully. A thought then occurred to him. "So, you said I would begin training tomorrow? When would that be, exactly?" he was almost afraid to ask.

"One past sunrise. Or, if you’d prefer, six o’clock sharp. Don’t give me that look, we may be training an army, but we don’t use Earth’s military time. You’ll understand the clocks here soon enough, don’t worry," Chaos replied, replying in stride with the changes in Percy’s expression.

"Look? What look?" Percy tried to defend, but Chaos had already looked away, no longer interested in the boy.

Order approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, catching his attention and distracting him enough to allow the pink blush to fade from his cheeks. "Here you go, dear. I understand that you not much of a morning person." She pressed something into his palm. Too late. The blush was back.

"I guess we’ll leave you now, then. Goodnight," Chaos said.

Just like that, the two immortals were gone.

Percy, once realizing that they were truly gone and that he was alone, looked down at the object that was in his hand. It was an alarm clock. Shrugging, the former hero walked over to the bed at the far end of the room and plunked the clock down on the bedside table.

Changing into the pyjamas that were laid out for him, he discarded his other clothes in the direction of the hamper and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. His brain only had time to connect it to the soft look of clouds before he drifted away.


	5. Familiar Strangers

Huff… huff… huff…

That was the only sound I heard: my own breath in my ears as I stood, surrounded by the scraps of my defeated enemies. Not to worry, they were only training robots, torn to pieces by my sword. It had only taken a few minutes for me to render them all useless.

“Congratulations, Perseus, you have passed our final test I believe that now, you are ready for your first field mission.”

I turned my head slightly, inclining it to listen to Chaos’ words more clearly. He stood at the edge of the training field, toes just barely hovering over the chalk-drawn line in the gravel. His boots crunched in the terrain as he approached, echoed only by a softer crunch: one of Order following behind him.

My sword lowered, almost as if by its own accord as my arms gave way to exhaustion. Through the sweaty haze, I could see the two most powerful beings in the universe stop in front of me, and let my head drop as a sign of respect.

“Come, now, my boy.” Order’s voice was soft, coaxing me to follow her back to my chambers.

They were still the same as when I first arrived a month ago, give or take a few days. However, they weren’t nearly as clean as they had been on my first night. Clothes lay strewn around, hanging off the edge of the cot, the armour rack, the lip of the hamper.

I wasn’t a slob. There was a reasonable excuse for the mess.

Ever since coming to Cofando, I’d been training non-stop. When I wasn’t training, I was in classes, learning about anything and everything. When I wasn’t doing either of those, I was eating. And when I’d had my fill, I spent the rest of my time sleeping.

As soon as I was inside, I stumbled across the room and collapsed onto my bed, not even bothering to change out of my training clothes. Lucid thoughts began to take over, but even through the haziness of sleep, I could hear Order’s soft voice.

“You will head out first thing tomorrow morning. For now, get some rest. You’re going to need it, my boy.”

I gave a grunt, trying to express that I’d understood. Luckily, my message somehow got through to them, and they left, closing the door behind them. Immersed in the sudden darkness, I allowed myself to fall into a light sleep.

Tomorrow, I would begin. I would succeed.

* * *

Normally, I’d wake to hear birds chirping outside of my cabin. I’d hear the distant clatter of swords from the arena or the neighing from the stables. That couldn’t happen anymore. I was no longer at camp, so I no longer awoke to camp sounds.

Instead, I awoke to the subtle silence of peace – something that, until now, I’d never been able to get used to. I’d always expected that there would be some sound to wake me, but there wasn’t. I just came back to myself, drifting out of sleep as quickly as I swam from the depths of the seas, breaking the surface with ease.

Checking the clock at my bedside I squinted at the harsh red light. It was still early, like every day, but today, I was up earlier than usual. Why was that? Briefly, I wondered why today of all days was different before it hit me.

My mission.

I had to go on a mission. A real mission. A field mission.

My first mission.

As soon as my mind got over the shock, I jumped out of bed, rushing around my room like a whirlwind. I had to get ready. Chaos and Order would understand tardiness, of course, but only for the first few days, maybe a week at most. I couldn’t be late for my first mission.

My clothes were light – almost hovering around me as I sped my way down the hall and to their office. It was a regular soldier’s garb, an outfit that I’d earned, but not one I’d keep for long. Well, if my mission was a success, I wouldn’t be.

The door almost seemed to appear in front of me, and I froze. Going through the halls, I’d bee hasty, but now, standing in front of the office, about to receive the details for my first ever mission as a soldier in the army of the most powerful beings in the universe, I hesitated.

What if I failed? What if I made a fool of myself? I couldn’t let them down, not after everything they’d done for me. They’d saved me from myself. They’d saved me from hate, and darkness, and pain.

I front of the door, I loitered. I checked and double-checked my armour – light chainmail. My fingers brushed over my weapons and drifted – featherlight – over my silver mask.

Relieved, I sighed. A mask was something that everyone in the army possessed, each one of them the same in style, colour, and metal. After receiving it after my first day of training, I found that this mask was one of the only things that could bring me comfort. It hugged my skin, caressing my cheeks with the gentleness of a mother’s touch. It hid the top half of my face, curving up and around to fit snugly, but never grew too warm or too cold on my skin. It wasn’t much, but it would keep me safe; it would hide me from my demons and protect me from my past sorrows.

Steeling my nerves, I was ready to move forward into this new chapter, so, with my heart fluttering in my chest, a raging bird of anxiety, I allowed my hand to move to the doorknob.

I’d barely even turned it before hearing a voice from within: “Enter, Perseus. Do not be afraid.”

That voice spurred me forward, and the next thing I knew, I was inside, standing before the two creators. They were there, hunched over their table, which was scattered with papers and maps and letters.

I cleared my throat, hoping it would catch their attention.

It did.

“Ah, Perseus. My dear boy. You have come for your mission details, I presume?” Order asked with a kind smile as she looked up, then proceeded to make her way around the table to a large filing cabinet.

I nodded in confirmation. “Yes, my lady,” I replied. My voice was steady and controlled, not at all reflecting my inner turmoil.

“Of course, you are, my dear boy. We trained you ourselves. We have no doubts that you will pass your test with flying colours.”

“Here you are,” Order said.

Swivelling my head back towards her, I saw that she was holding out a particularly thin, unlabeled folder. As soon as it was in my hands, I flipped it open. Inside, there was only a single sheet of paper with a single paragraph of words. Thankfully, it was written in Ancient Greek.

“ _Mission 001,_ ” I read, “ _Location is Drochet of the fourth dimension. Objective: find and defeat the Cryptile. Make sure it is secured._ ” Looking up at the creators, I said, “There isn’t much information here. Where do I even find it? I hardly think that I can scour the entire planet before the creature moves on.”

Chaos only chuckled, confusing me further. “Don’t fret, my boy. I’m sure that you’ll find it will be easier to locate the creature than you expect. Good luck.”

Nodding, I swiftly turned on my heel and exited the room as he dismissed me. Before stepping into the Trans-Matter room, I double-checked, and triple checked that I’d packed everything that I would need. Inside, I was met with a sight that I wasn’t expecting: the nine, winged warriors I’d seen on my first day.

They all stood, stiff and intimidating while still managing to look awkward. Since I’d begun my training, I’d learned that these warriors were the Captains. They each commanded their own battalion and were responsible for their sector, be it training, housing, or charging into battle.

“Hello, Percy,” greeted Proteus. He oversaw the first battalion. Most of the time, he was the one to lead his troops into the fiercest of battles. He taught his troops melee, and they were the best in the galaxy at what they did.

Momentarily surprised by his casual ‘hello’, I could only nod in his direction. I passed him on the way to one of the portals, programming it.

“Perseus.”

This time, the voice was harsher, having lost its casual tone. Immediately afterward, there was a hand on my shoulder, stopping me from pressing the final button on the console. My eyes followed the hand back towards the body, and finally, I was staring into the cold silver mask of Hester.

Hester was another captain, her sector being the third, which mainly dealt with long-distance combat. Slingshots, archery, and trebuchets to name a few. They were also experienced in stealth, and if there was a solo mission, Hester was usually sent in as a spy or assassin. Even her name, meaning star – a solitary thing in space, but unnoticed among the billions of others – reflected upon her personality, whereas ‘Proteus’ eluded to his reckless style of ‘bravery comes first’ because of his changeable nature.

My eyes dug into hers before coming back up to rest on his hand, which had remained on my shoulder for all of three minutes. “What is it?” I asked, my tone light. It took all my concentration not to snap at them. My nerves were already on edge due to the details of my mission and they weren’t helping at all to calm me with their unusual behaviour.

Hester smirked, but it wasn’t her who spoke next.

“Let’s see your mission.”

It was Caminus. He stood in front of me now, his broad frame towering over my smaller – but still hefty – build.

“I’m not sure that’s allowed-” I began, but a laugh cut me off.

Caminus bellowed, his hands on his stomach as he doubled over. If he were a lot chubbier and had a white beard, he could’ve been Santa, because his laugh suited the jolly old man perfectly. Instead, the man was top-heavy, his shoulder far wider than his waist and he had no bowl-full-of-jelly belly to be seen.

He, of course, was our blacksmith. His battalion specialized in all sorts of weaponry – even invented new tools – but he oversaw it all. He was even awarded his codename due to his talent at the anvil, as Caminus meant ‘forge’.

“Of course! Hand it over,” Proteus said as Caminus calmed.

I raised an eyebrow but decided that it would better for my health if I gave in. There were, of course, nine of them, and only one of me, and Caminus alone would’ve made me think twice about disobeying their request.

As soon as the file touched Proteus’s hand, it was ripped from mine. Flipping it open, he studied the words for a few seconds – long enough for him to have read it twice over. Then, his mouth fell open in disbelief, and he passed it to the others.

By the time I go it back, it had touched everyone’s fingers, and they all looked at me with pity and shock evident in their eyes. Proteus was the first to break out of his frozen state by saying, “Only you, Perce, would start with a five-star mission. Good luck: I hope you don’t die.”

“I won’t,” I said flatly, snatching the file back in a similar fashion as he had earlier. Sliding it swiftly into a pocket on the inside of my cloak, I turned back towards the portal, preparing myself for the jump.

Once again, that didn’t happen.

Right before I jumped, with my knees still bent and everything, I was stopped.

“Wait! Just wait.” The voice didn’t seem panicked or angry, only quick to speak and calm all the same.

I turned. My cloak swished around my feet – something that I’d had to get used to over the past month of training – and gently came to a stop as my feet came to rest, pointing towards Seraphina.

Softening my tone, I asked, “What is it, Seraphina?” She’d always been the nicest one of the groups. At least, that I had noticed. She waved at me every time I passed by, a bright smile on her face, and when I arrived a month ago, she had been the first to sit next to me in the green room for a meal.

She took a hesitant step forward, her head tilted downwards so that her hood slipped even further down her face than usual. “Before you go…” she said, her voice quiet, “We wanted to show you something.”

“Show me what?” I asked, but before I could wonder, she flipped her hood back and pulled her hair up to fall, scattered, over the back of her cloak. Then, her mask was gone, and my jaw dropped.

In front of me was a girl I’d known once. A girl who I had rescued, then lost, then travelled with, and then lost again. A girl whose death had brought sorrow to not only me but a group of girls and her younger brother as well, who – for the longest time – had blamed me for her death. I still blamed myself for her death, even if he no longer did.

Standing in front of me was Bianca di Angelo.

“B-Bianca!” I cried in shock. Of course! Seraphina! Her chosen name reflected on her given name. Like an angel with fiery wings, Bianca was the daughter of Hades with a mother of heaven.

My eyes turned to the others, suddenly suspicious. Hester smirked at me, and suddenly, the familiarity of the expression dawned on me. Gods, I’m such an idiot. Her name meant star.

I smiled. She chose a name to honour her Lady, who sent her spirit into the stars to always watch over the earth, always hunt, always exist. “Zoë.”

Hester nodded. “Right again, _boy_ ,” she said teasingly. Despite the title, I could sense no malice behind her choice of words. She removed her hood and mask as Bianca had. “You’re getting smarter.”

I turned to Proteus. It was just then that I finally noticed it. On his face, a jagged scar peaked out from under his mask. How had I not seen it before? I smiled. “The changeable hero, as always, Luke,” I said to him, receiving a warm smile in return as he revealed his face, hair just as blonde as it always had been.

“Uh-huh,” he confirmed. “Looking good, Perce.”

“And I’m assuming that Adara and Caminus are Silena and Beckendorf? Finally reunited, and married, it seems?” I inquired as my eyes wandered over their intertwined hands, both sporting simple gold rings. It was obvious enough by the fact that Caminus meant forge, and the name Adara, of course, was a tribute to Silena’s mother, Aphrodite.

I turned to the others after the couple had revealed their faces. The five of them were the most obvious, but the others…were they also campers that I had once known? I tried to think back to all of my friends who had fallen in battle, demigods that deserved and wanted to be here to make a difference, giving up their peaceful afterlife to make a difference in the world.

One name popped out to me at that thought as I looked to Constantine. His mask, though styled the same as the others’, had one major difference. The right side of the mask was typical for its design, but the left side remained smooth and unblemished, not even having an eye hole. That could only mean one thing.

“Ethan Nakamura,” I said, regarding the one-eyed man. “Are you finally doing what you wanted? You have the ability to make a difference in the world?”

He nodded crisply.

I smiled. “Very good. Did you have to give up any more body parts?” I was trying to make a joke, but he probably didn't understand, because he answered with a very serious “No, I did not” before removing his mask as well, which strangely had an eyepatch under it. Wouldn’t that have gotten sweaty after a while?

I didn’t have time to think about that, though, as Belen, Vinum, and Jace all coughed in unison. Unmasked, they stood before me as Michael Yew, Castor, and Lee Fletcher. Two sons of Apollo, each specializing in a major point of the god – healing and archery – and one of the two current sons of Dionysus.

Finally, everything came rushing in, the reality of my situation finally dawning on me. My friends, all previously deceased, were here, alive and well. They were fighting for the goodness of the world, of many worlds in fact, and gave up their peaceful afterlives in Elysium to keep protecting what they thought was right.

My heart stopped, and my jaw hung loosely from my cheekbones. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I was overwhelmed with happiness. My friends were alive! Alive!

“Percy… Are you okay?” Beckendorf asked. He stepped forward, leaving Silena for only a moment to tower over me once again, though this time, he wasn’t using his size to be threatening. This time, he was being the gentle giant I’d once known.

I nodded in response to his question, bringing my jaw back up to settle in its correct place on my face. “It’s just…so great to see you all again,” I said. Feeling the tear about to fall, I turned sharply towards the portal, and this time, I was able to jump through without interruption.


	6. The First Adventure

Unlike the first time, my trip through the portal was smooth. Colours swirled around me, but they were less disorienting, and I was able to keep my balance in the steady flow of the time-space continuum. Now that I was used to it, I realized that it felt a lot like floating through a river, letting the current take you to wherever you were going.

Pretty soon, I was once again on solid ground.

The first sensation that hit me was the strong scent of cinnamon. It wasn’t like the subtle home-baking-for-Christmas kind of smell, either. It was more like a _“who-dropped-the-jar?”_ kind of scent.

Next was the burning in my eyes. The air was like acid, stinging my lungs as I breathed and my nose as a sniffed and my eyes as I blinked. Chaos had told me that this would happen on my first few missions, as my body was not yet used to the different atmospheres that I would visit during my time serving in his and Order’s army.

As I finally pushed aside my discomfort, I looked around. I was in a forest, but not just any forest. The trunks of the trees were a deep violet and the bark was smooth, almost like they’d been sanded down. Each branch carried a plethora of small, round leaves, their bright orange colour popping against the dark wood. The grass below them was even stranger, though. It was tall and green, but not the usual meadow green one would see on Earth. No. Here, apparently all grass was lime-coloured and shone like glowstick fluid.

By the gods this world was strange.

Since training in the army, I’d learned to use all my senses when completing tasks. I could focus, hearing everything from the loudest shriek to the quietest whisper, and now, naturally tuned out things I didn’t want to hear in favour of things I did. The Cryptile was near, I knew that.

Closing my eyes, I stretched out my senses, listening, smelling, letting every bit of information wash over me. When Order had first begun to teach me this, one my first day, I was easily overwhelmed, flooded by so much information that my brain couldn’t handle it. I remember waking up in the infirmary and blushing bright red as the nurse told me that I’d fainted in the first few seconds of training. After that, I vowed never to faint again.

That didn’t last long.

Shaking myself out of the humiliating memory, I focused on a clue that presented itself to me. Burning. Something was burning for sure. Whether it was grass or tar, though I couldn’t tell. Everything on this planet smelled different, and if I trusted the instincts I’d gotten from Earth, I wouldn’t last long.

Following my nose, I shuddered as a wave of power flowed – thick as molasses in the air – from my right. I spun around, sprinting toward it. That was the Cryptile for sure. It had to be!

The clearing was quiet as I reached it, coming through the fog like a mysterious figure in a cliché zombie horror film. Just as I was beginning to feel uncomfortable in the suddenly dim lighting – the glaring orange sun blocked out by the low clouds forming around me – two more figures were revealed.

One was a man, that I knew for certain. The other, though…that was trickier. It was…well, it was a monster, for sure. It had a humanoid figure, with two legs, two arms, a torso, and a head, but those limbs were far less human than its companion. This creature had the head of a dragon and slimy-looking scales covering its body, which was twisted in a way that couldn’t have possibly been human. It had large wings and a tail, meaning that it was hunched forward to compensate for the extra weight, and its fingers and toes were long, each tipped with a sharp, hooked claw.

They appeared to be fighting. Each was evenly matched with the other, dealing blow for blow, the monster with its claws and the man with his sword, the monster with its pitch-black scales and the man with his glowing white shield and robes. They were the Yin and Yang that Percy had grown up hearing about whenever his mother took him passed tacky souvenir shops in Chinatown.

The man struck with his sword but was countered by gnarled fingers from the monster, dark red flames curling in the air in the wake of its paw. The monster’s eyes gleamed, irises glowing a deep red as well, matching the flames perfectly. Shaking its head, the featherlike scales along its neck fluttered around the two vicious-looking curved horns that stood prominently on either side of its head.

This creature was most definitely the monster half of the Cryptile. As I thought back to my time on Cofando, I began to remember hearing about the Cryptile in stories. I heard rumours that it had two halves: a monster and a man who constantly fought for dominance. I just never expected their fight for control to be so physical.

The man was almost a mirror image of the monster, something that I expected. He looked somewhat normal. He had no claws, no fangs. No horns or gnarled, scaly skin. Instead, he had bright, white, feathery wings in lieu of the dark reptilian wings of his counterpart. His eyes were cerulean blue, so light that they were almost like the ocean, endless but completely clear when separated from the rest of its being. He was wearing plain white clothing – just a simple pair of pants and a t-shirt – and instead of black and red fire coating his entire body, there were white and blue flames licking up around him. The flames skipped over his arms and danced in his locks of shocking white hair.

I knew I had to stop them. If I didn’t, they would surely tear this planet apart and simply move onto another. Also, I had a deadline to meet. Defeat the Cryptile. Make sure it is secure. Nothing too hard to understand about that. Obviously, I would have to kill it.

Running forward, I drew my sword and held it between their weapons as they clashed once more, sending fire spitting to the ground, catching in the grass and burning a patch of death into the foliage. The quarrelling foes paused, suddenly aware of my presence, and backed away, staring at me incredulously, as if they couldn’t believe that I’d just come in and interrupted them.

“Who are you?” the monster hissed, “How dare you interfere?” Its voice was high pitched a whistle, like nails on a chalkboard, and I admit that I winced slightly upon hearing it.

“I am Perseus Jackson,” I said, “And I am a warrior in the army of Order and Chaos.”

The man chuckled. He lowered his sword and gave a smile that seemed almost friendly – not quite, but almost. “Ah, yes. Am I correct in assuming that you are here to kill us? It is your mission. An assignment for a promotion?”

My mouth nearly dropped open. How did he know that? I voiced my question after a few seconds of standing and staring.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I can read the signs, clearly,” he answered, his tone making it clear to me that he was annoyed by my – probably idiotic – question.

I raised my sword once again – having dropped it as we spoke. “That’s nice and all, but I still need to complete my mission. I can’t let you keep fighting like this. You’ll destroy another planet and still, nothing will be solved.”

With that comment out of the way, we began fighting. I swung my sword, first at the monster who seemed readier for a fight than the man, and our battle commenced.

My sword was a blur, leaving only flashes of bronze in its wake as I swung and jabbed and blocked. Unfortunately for me, it was two against one, and both of my opponents had the advantage of using Voidfyre – the most dangerous substance in the universe.

After many long hours, as the orange sun set, casting an eerie glow over the horizon and shining between the branches of the unusual trees, I had them both on the ground, trapped. To this day, I don’t remember how I did it, I just know that one moment I was losing, and the next, they were at my mercy. I carried two long daggers instead of my sword, which seemed to have disappeared, and I was ready to make the final blow.

To my surprise, the man laughed. “You are going to kill us now?” he asked.

“Go right ahead!” the monster chimed in, letting out a wheezing hiss that must’ve also been a laugh. “Complete your mission. You will never be rid of us!” Each ‘s’ it said was rolled off its forked tongue in a stereotypical snake language.

Raising the daggers higher, I prepared to stab them. Their heartbeats echoed in my ears, calm despite the situation. The tips of the daggers shone in the dying light of the sun.

“I can’t.” I stepped back and lowered the daggers to my sides, dropping them to the rich, black, exposed earth.

They didn’t stand right away; I guess my actions were so unexpected that it wasn’t even considered to be an outcome for my appearance, because both the man and the monster remained where they were, staring at me from the scorched grass.

“I was given a second chance,” I said, hoping to elaborate on my decision. “As far as I’ve heard about you, you haven’t done anything horrible. You may have destroyed a few planets here and there during your temper tantrums, but all that have been affected were uninhabited and no one was harmed. You are only feared for your power and your potential for doing something to hurt others. If I kill you now, I’d be a hypocrite, using my second chance without even giving you a first.”

After I fell silent again, their reaction confused me. They just gave each other a look, their eyes growing rather expressive – leading me to believe that they were having a mental conversation. What about – I could only guess at that point. A few seconds later, they both nodded and stood, turning back toward me with no emotions showing on their faces.

“Thank you.”

The words were said in union, but not in a creepy way. Not in the way that reminded you of twins as they completed one another’s sentences, but more like when a group of people pans ahead of time what they want to say.

I didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because at that very second, they began to glow. Their whole bodies lit up like the fourth of July and eventually grew so bright that they lost their forms, becoming only luminescing spheres of Voidfyre. Then, they came together as one and approached me.

My heart rate increased, and everything in my head was telling me to run, but my body wouldn’t move. The ball of swirling blue and red flew into my chest, giving me heartburn like you wouldn’t believe, but at the same time, filling me with an energy that I’d never felt before. I could practically feel the amount of power that was now flowing through my veins.

And it hurt like _Hades_!

I screamed, immediately falling to the ground as my knees buckled underneath me. My whole body felt like it was on fire, which – as I opened my eyes – I realized that it was.

Red, white, black, and blue flames were dancing along my skin. Surprisingly, it didn’t singe off my arm hair as I was expecting, though it burnt my skin painfully. My flesh was soon bright red where the flames had once been before moving on, and pretty soon, I was worried that it would go one more level and turn black and crispy.

After what seemed like hours, I felt the pain dull from its previous intensity. I was almost relieved before I felt my body begin to change.

Immediately panic flooded my system. I felt my feathers falling away from my wings, revealing thin, leathery skin underneath. I felt my fingernails extend – with the same sensation that I’d assume would come when an abuser would pull fingernails from one’s skin. My teeth grew longer and sharper in my mouth until they were too big to simply fit inside, which was when my whole face began to rearrange itself.

Hunching over, I felt my clothes begin to rip as my bones shifted beneath my skin, making my body no longer fit in the measurements of cloth that now hung off of my limbs in pieces. I felt shivers run throughout my body as my skin toughed and darkened into scales. My whole spine ached as a tail sprouted from the end of it, the new limb swishing around behind me as if exploring its new space.

And of course, the piece de resistance, my brain exploded.

Not really, but it felt like that’s what happened.

What could only be described as horns burst from just above my temples on either side of my skull, curving upward toward the darkening sky.

Then, something else happened. My arms grew heavier, gaining muscle at an exponential rate. I fell forward and felt my body grow bigger and heavier as new muscles continued to line my existing ones. What was happening? The monster half of the Cryptile was only half-dragon! Why after merging with him would I be a full dragon?

I began to freak out. That was the only word for it.

I stomped around, my jaw unhinged for the fire to burst relentlessly from my mouth and my large feet leaving deep footprints everywhere I went.

Suddenly, I heard the man’s voice. _“Calm down. This has only happened because your body was trying to cope with the sudden influx of power. It will wear off, eventually, but you must be still and quiet for your body to accept the change. This transformation will only ever happen again when you become frustrated or angry, or otherwise choose to do it at will. For now, relax, and you will return to normal,”_ he said.

Following his advice without question, I stopped moving and immediately fell silent, not even daring to breathe, but forcing calming thoughts to roll through my mind. Soon enough, I had shrunk back down to human form and size. Checking everything, I sighed. I was back to normal.

 _“That’s better, isn’t it, boy?”_ a voice hissed from within the deep recesses of my mind.

I jumped, recognizing the voice as belonging to the monster half of the Cryptile. “How are you talking to me in my head?” I demanded, looking around despite now being alone on this deserted planet.

 _“We have transferred our souls into your body after deciding that you are worthy of our powers. You are wise beyond your years, and there is just something about you that makes us feel the need to join you on your journey. We are a part of you now,”_ the man’s disembodied voice said, coming forward once again. _“Refer to us as your conscience, if you wish.”_

 _“Ha, ha,”_ I thought sarcastically, _“Very funny. So how many more people will be able to talk in my head once we’re done with this?”_

 _“Only one more, if my calculations are correct. You, me, Crypt, and the yet-to-be-named,”_ the monster hissed.

I froze. “Crypt? Why are you calling him Crypt?” I was so shocked that I forget to speak in my head. Luckily there was no one around to give me a weird stare.

 _“It’s just a nickname. Makes it easy for us to communicate, so I became known as Crypt, and he as Tile. Not very creative, I know, since they are just the two halves of our title, but they’re better than nothing,”_ the man – Crypt, apparently – explained.

 _“Okay,”_ I thought, nodding. That made sense, at least.

 _“We should be teleporting you back to Chaos and Order by now, Surely, they’ll want to see how you’ve done with your first field mission. Most likely, they’ve been watching the whole thing from that weird table-television of theirs, so act natural,”_ Tile hissed.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a portal device and threw it down. Shattering in the dirt below my feet, the device activated a portal and I was sucked in. As I travelled back to Cofando, I had the nerve to ask, _“Do you really hiss in your thoughts? Or do you choose to sound like a stereotypical snake monster from nineties horror films?”_

“Shut up,” a somewhat regular voice replied, though I could still tell that it was Tile. The rest of the trip was silent after that, as I panicked, worrying over what I would say to Chaos and Order. This meeting was about to get interesting.

* * *

When the portal ended, I was standing just opposite to their desk. In the back of my mind, I praised myself for landing so well. Snapping back to the present, I stood at attention as Chaos and Order looked up from the glossy black surface to look at me.

Unable to resist, I snuck a glance at what they had been watching to see that they, in fact, had been monitoring my mission.

None of us spoke until Chaos broke the silence. “We watched what you decided, and we are proud of you for it.”

“But…” I protested, “I didn’t complete my mission. The Cryptile still lives.”

“Did it say anywhere in your folder that you were to _kill_ the Cryptile?” Order asked.

I looked down. “Well, no. It just says…defeat it…and then keep it contained.”

“Both of which you have done without bloodshed. Congratulations, my boy. You saw the light of trust through the darkness of fear, opting to let your opponents live rather than killing them in cold blood.”

Standing abruptly, both immortals stepped out from behind their desk and suddenly, there was a throne in the room. It was ornate, made of dark brown wood, and had many carvings along the back and armrests.

Gesturing to it, Chaos said, “Please sit, and allow the throne to test you.”

I sat.

As soon as my butt hit the padded cushion, the whole thing began to glow, first a dull red, then, brighter and brighter until finally, it settled on a gleaming gold.

“You have been deemed worthy of the position we have chosen for you, my boy,” Order said. “Come here.”

Doing as she asked, I rose from the throne, only to kneel at her feet. Gently tapping each of my shoulders, Order said, “Rise, Perseus Jackson, General of our army.”

I stood, and a heavy metal pin was attached to the front of my uniform. Then, the two, all-powerful, immortal beings stood back, and held their hands out, palms facing me. Before I could even ask them what they were doing, two beams of bright light shot toward me.

 _“I guess I should be used to it by now, looking back on all the times this has happened to me,”_ I thought.

 _“Well, you’ve still got us,”_ Tile said.

 _“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”_ I replied.

 _“Um…yes?”_ His answer was hesitant.

“Just kidding. Of course, I know that you’re going to be there. Forever, apparently.”

Just then, Crypt joined in, and the two of them made random conversation to distract me from the blinding pain that was seeping through my entire body. They brought up topics like the weather – which we didn’t have much of on Cofando. They talked about different planets they’d been to – and blew up – and the people that they’d met while visiting – which was no one. Soon, the pain stopped, and I barely even noticed it.

When I felt only a dull throb of pain fade from behind my eyes, I opened them, looking around the room.

It was still the same. Chaos and Order were still in front of me and everything in the room was in its rightful place. The only thing that had changed was me. Once again, I was different. Reborn. How many times would this happen to me?

Smiling on the outside, I thanked Chaos and Order for their gifts and genuinely thanked them for my new position before bowing and leaving the room.

 _“Time to sleep,”_ I thought to myself. Well… I guess I can’t ever really think to myself ever again, what with Crypt and Tile being in my brain 24/7.

 _“You got that right,”_ Tile said.

Tomorrow, I would renovate my room. Yes, I liked it, and yes, it was nice, but there _were_ a few things that I wanted to add. As soon as I stepped outside of Chaos and Order’s office, everyone in the hallway just stopped and saluted before continuing with whatever they had been doing.

It happened the whole way back to my room.

Sighing in relief that I’d finally gotten to my dorm; I opened the door. Just as I was about to close and lock it, I heard a clatter of footsteps coming down the hall. It was the captains. They ran down the hall, nearly tripping over themselves to get to my door. Offhandedly, I noticed that their wings were tightly folded behind them; it was obvious that they hadn’t been flying in a while.

“Hey, Perce, we just heard about your promotion. Congratulations, man. Want to give us some details?” Proteus asked. No. His name was Luke, I had to remember that. It would be difficult because I’d gotten used to calling him Proteus when he wore his mask, but I think I could do it.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m pretty tired. Okay, guys?”

They nodded and bid my goodnight before leaving. As soon as they were gone, I changed into my nightwear and fell forward in bed, letting my head hit the pillow and my wings spread out behind me. My blanket immediately pulled itself up and over my back and I fell asleep, quickly becoming oblivious to the world.

I wonder, what my life will be like now?


	7. Kindred Spirits

The next morning, I woke up at the usual time. I dressed in my usual clothes, tamed my hair the usual way with my usual comb and brushed my teeth with my toothpaste burning on my tongue as usual.

Needless to say, it was a usual morning.

The only thing that was different, though, was that my outfit now had a new badge on it. I pinned it over my heart – a shiny gold and silver crest marking me as the General.

 _“Looking good,”_ I heard a voice in my head say, making me jump slightly. It was Tile. I guess I forgot about him. It would _definitely_ take a while to get used to hearing two other voices in my head.

 _“You’ve got that right,”_ Tile said matter-of-factly.

Nodding to myself in the mirror, I head to the training room for my morning session with the robots. Order did tell me that I had today off like it was for all members of the army who had returned from a particularly difficult mission, but I didn’t see why I couldn’t still train.

Minutes later, they were done. I felt strange this morning. I could feel new energy behind each of my sword strokes, a burst of power in my swings and jabs that had never been there before.

It felt magnificent!

After letting off some steam, I returned to my room. Time to renovate! First, I made it a little bigger – kind of like the tent from Harry Potter, so that it wouldn’t take up extra space. With a wave of my hand, my bed mattress turned into a water bed, which is something that I’ve always wanted despite the horrifying experience with Procrustes when I was twelve.

Next was the bookshelf. Now, you may think I’m crazy, but I was thinking of Crypt since he seemed like the type who would enjoy a good read every now and again. I added a few that I remember from Earth that I thought he’d enjoy.

 _“Crypt? Anything to add?”_ I asked.

 _“Yes, please. I appreciate you thinking of me,”_ he said before listing off a few books he wanted to read or had enjoyed reading before. When he was done, I’d had to make the shelf four times the size it had originally been, and there was a book about every major planet in the universe, as well as a few others.

I didn’t say anything about it – just silently judged. Why _anyone_ would want that many books, was beyond me. Luckily, there were only twenty or so dimensions, and each of them had less than ten planets each, and even less actually contained and were able to support life.

 _“You should add a TV,”_ Tile piped up.

 _“When would I have time to watch anything?”_ I asked incredulously.

 _“I dunno,”_ Tile responded, _“Just add one.”_

After that, I added a few more details – no, I didn’t add a TV like Tile wanted. By the time I was finished, there was a knock on the door. Shouting a quick, “Come in!” I heard it open. It was Chaos, and behind him, Order.

“Salutations, Perseus,” he said. “Today, now that you have proven yourself and received your rank, you must choose a codename. Of course, you may still use your real name if you wish, but only with your closest advisors. Because of the nature of our recruitment, we find it best to offer everyone a chance at a new life, and thus, choose a new name.”

I nodded. That made sense. I was coming to find that a lot of what Chaos and Order said and did made sense.

Making a couch with a quick wave of my hand, I motioned for them to sit for our conversation.

“Once you have chosen a new name, we will erase your original name from the minds of everyone in the army, unless you have a select few that you wish to retain the memory of who you are…?” Order trailed off slightly, raising an eyebrow as if expecting me to protest.

Of course, I did. “Yes, I would like the captains to remember who I am. May I ask why you do this?” I thought of them. Earlier, I’d finally been able to give them the details of my mission that they so aggressively desired, though I left out a great deal about Crypt and Tile, obviously not knowing how to tell them that I now had this dangerous creature _inside_ my head.

“Perseus, as a member of our army – especially being its General, you will make many enemies. For our soldiers not knowing the true identities of each other, we are more secure, as everyone knows that our army is secure, so torturing information out of them is useless. It’s just a precaution in case any of our soldiers is caught,” Chaos explained.

Nodding once again. I watched curiously as Order closed her eyes. A few seconds later, I felt a shockwave ripple through the air in all directions. Then, Order opened her eyes.

“Their memories have been erased. None shall remember your name, and your face will become only a blur in their memories. We and the captains are now the only ones who will remember your previous name and the look of your face.

“So, Perseus, what will be your new name?”

I stayed silent, my mind racing.

 _“Abaddon,”_ Crypt suggested.

 _“Why that?”_ I asked.

 _“It is a name that means ‘ruin’ or ‘destruction’. It would strike fear into the hearts of your enemies,”_ Tile responded to my question.

 _“Alright,”_ I replied. Turning my focus back to the two immortal deities in front of me, I said, “The Cryptile has suggested I take Abaddon as my new name. What are your thoughts?”

Chaos nodded. “An excellent choice, in my opinion. Is that what you wish to be called?”

I nodded.

“Then, from today forth, let Perseus Achilles Jackson now be known as Abaddon, bringer of destruction, justice, and peace, general of the eternal army.”

Thunder boomed in the distance. Wow. I didn’t even know there was thunder on Cofando. The more you know.

“Now that that’s been settled, onto the next subject. You’ve bonded with the Cryptile, and are obviously the one of the ancient prophecy, which foretells that you will be heir to the universe, have wings blacker than night itself, be kin to the Shadow Lord, and wield Voidfyre alongside him. We wish to see it.”

For a moment, I was a deer in the headlights, not knowing in the least what I was meant to do.

 _“Just think about when you used to control water. It’s a bit like that. Will it into existence and it will obey you,”_ Crypt said to me, whispering even though Tile and I were the only ones who could hear him.

In response to his teaching, I mentally prepared myself, then thought of flames dancing in my hand. Just like that, they appeared. On one hand, I held a ball of red and black Voidfyre, which danced – quick and fierce like it was trying to escape but couldn’t go past the reach of my palm. On the other, I held a wisp of blue and white flames.

Then, I got an idea. I started to bring my hands closer together. “No! Wait-!” Crypt and Tile both cried, but their warnings were cut short.

Putting both hands together, I immediately regretted my decision. The Voidfyre swirled for a split second, before letting off a loud explosion, bursting outward aggressively.

As the Voidfyre dimmed and extinguished, I blinked. My face was blackened slightly, and my eyebrows were scorched, but otherwise, I was fine. Chaos and Order had jumped out of their seats and hid behind the couch, which now had a few splatters of Voidfyre on it. I put it out immediately.

“That was a mistake,” I said, coughing slightly. A bit of smoke came out from between my lips.

“Well, I guess it’s time you met with the Shadow Lord. He has been waiting many years for you,” Chaos said as he and Order emerged from behind the couch.

I had to remind myself that even though those two were the most powerful being in the universe, Voidfyre was still powerful enough to harm them. One touch and it would take away the soul of a mortal and would give an immortal being a slow and painful death. For the creators, it would definitely leave a burn or two at least, though they would be part of the lucky few who survived the experience.

* * *

After leaving my room, we walked down to the dungeons. They were dark and cold, positioned directly under the castle so there were no windows and the only heat came from the braziers along the walls – which were hardly ever lit.

“You keep the Shadow Lord down here?” I asked incredulously.

“We don’t keep him her. He chooses to be here. As far as I’ve heard from him, it’s comforting. There are no ‘annoying two-legged’s down here,” Order said.

“I guess he’s not one who’s big on having company,” I muttered.

“He is just lonely. He’s been waiting since the beginning of time for the one destined to be his kin. Now that you are here, I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed.”

“If you say so.”

We stopped in front of the last cell, which wasn’t really even a cell at all. The door was ajar and peeking inside it seemed more like just a cave than anything else. Shadows lingered, seemingly heavier here than anywhere else. Just inside, I saw the first edges of bleached white bones, lying strewn on the ground.

Chaos and Order stopped. “This is as far as we go. It’s now up to you to introduce yourself to him.

I forced myself to swallow, and my Adam’s apple bobbed visibly. I nodded.

Just as I set one toe through the doorway, a voice boomed: _“Who dares enter my chambers?”_ it demanded.

It was strange, though. It didn’t echo in my ears. I didn’t hear it at all, actually. Instead, the voice was in my head, so much like how Crypt and Tile spoke to me.

Clearing my throat, I found the courage to speak. “My name is Percy Jackson. I am now known as Abaddon and I have been made general of the eternal army,” I announced. “I have come to introduce myself as your kin. I have been judged worthy by the Cryptile and by the Throne of Power. Voidfyre is under my command.”

Suddenly, I sensed his hesitation. I could feel the apprehension coming off him in waves, almost as if he was afraid. He didn’t know if I really was who I said. He’d most likely been waiting for so long, he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Show him your Voidfyre,” Tile urged.

I did so. With a snap of my finger, Voidfyre lit up the cave, illuminating a single figure in the darkness. That was the first look I got of the Shadow Lord.

He was a magnificent beast – a wolf – with dark fur and lean muscles. His paws were each tipped with four razor-sharp claws. A single, ivory horn rose in a spiral from his forehead. And, just like mine, he had dark wings, the feathers coming seamlessly out of his fur on his shoulders.

At the sight of my Voidfyre, he grinned a wolf-grin, showing off a mouth of gleaming pointed white teeth. When he spoke, he only spoke one word, full of pent-up emotion – relief being at the forefront.

_“Finally.”_

Then, his horn lit up. It was the most beautiful sight. The ivory became enveloped in deep violet flames, bright and dark at the same time - if that was even possible. Specks of silver flashed in the Voidfyre, like ribbons on a fan.

As if by instinct, I took a step closer to him. He moved in sync with me. Then, as if we’d rehearsed it, we bowed simultaneously, allowing our Voidfyre to come together, spiralling around each other, but never touching.

A few moments later, our Voidfyre died down at our command, and we stood in silence. I suddenly felt a rush of exhaustion, as if I’d just fought an army, even though I hadn’t.

Had we just completed a ritual? How had I known what to do? Many questions flooded my mind, and only one out of every five was answered as the Shadow Lord – now known to me as Haetros – began to respond, his voice quickly becoming a natural occurrence in my head along with Crypt and Tile.

Returning to the hallway, I found that Chaos and Order were nowhere to be found but thought little of it as Haetros and I quickly made our way back to my room to connect some more, speaking telepathically the entire journey.

Looking out the window, I realized that somehow, it was already past sunset. Down in the dungeons, the ritual felt like mere seconds, but…I guess it must’ve been hours. That was the only explanation.

Jumping in bed, I allowed Haetros to curl up next to me, and though he was slightly unsteady on the water mattress, he easily made himself comfortable and we fell asleep.


	8. Spill the Beans

Secrets are the worst. It’s not just that they’re hard to keep; no; it’s that you must keep them from your closest friends. Like my friends – all nine of them, who have stuck by me for the past five thousand years that I’ve been a part of the eternal army – who have had to suffer my lies and excuses for years, but never pushed or prompted me to tell them.

Sometimes, I would sit alone in my room – even though I was never alone – and think to myself, _‘I do not deserve them,’_ because I didn’t. Honestly. I lied to them for years about Crypt and Tile, and even though they knew I’d met with a bonded to the Shadow Lord, they’d never met him. They didn’t even know his name. No one did. Not even Chaos or Order had seen Haetros, but no one asked.

In a way, though, it made everything easier. Since I was made general, more stress than I’d ever felt in my life was piled onto my shoulders, and I didn’t know how to handle it at times, which is why having my three mental companions around helped a lot. My friends helped too, but they never really understood what I was dealing with, so they weren’t much comfort at the best of times.

In the past couple thousand years, I’m proud to say that I’ve matured. The missions and responsibilities on my back have hardened my exterior, though my heart has remained as vulnerable as ever. I still haven’t found anyone to love or love me in return. Sure, there have been suitors, but… I no longer felt a spark with anyone. There was no one in all the universe for me after what Annabeth did.

Upon entering Chaos and Order’s office, I let out a sigh, catching their attention. My most recent solo mission was scheduled for this morning, and I just had to collect the details, so I could be on my way.

Order looked up from where she was on the other side of the room, her fingers fluttering through a stack of files. She smiled. “Good morning, Abaddon,” she said.

“Have you come for the details for your mission, or just to say hello?” Chaos asked. He must’ve noticed that I didn’t sit. Whenever I entered their office, I never sat in the proffered chair, preferring to stay by the door until they gave me my files.

“Just to collect my information.”

Rolling his chair across the back of the room, Chaos plucked a file from the cabinet and rolled his way back over to me, holding it out for me to take. “It’s nearly your two-millionth mission. Congratulations. I wish you all the success.”

“Thank you.” I nodded to him, my fingers gripping the folder tightly. Then, nodding to Order as well, I turned on my heel and walked out of the room. Once in the hall, I opened the file and scanned the page. It was on the seven hundredth planet. My target, Fletrù Comnøgn, was hoping to start a war between the seven hundredth and seven hundredth and first planets. I was to assassinate him, both for previous crimes and to prevent the critical event from happening.

Before me, the portal room door slid open, revealing the machines that I have long since gotten used too. Walking right up to the one of the far left – which I’ve come to find had the least number of glitches – and programmed it. My fingers flew over the keyboard; by now, I knew where every key was, so I could look at the specific coordinates on the sheet of paper and type them in letter-for-letter from a choice of over one hundred buttons.

The machine hummed to life the second I clicked _ENTER_.

“Hey, Abby.”

I heard Luke’s voice behind me say, and I visually tensed, every refined muscle in my back seizing. I should have expected it. It seemed that they had to see me off at least once a week on my missions, no matter how many times I told them that I needed to focus and keep to myself right before I left.

“You know that I dislike the use of that name, Proteus? Is it so hard for you to struggle to the very end of my chosen name?” I asked, allowing my slight annoyance to slip into my tone.

He shrugged. “What kind of name is Abaddon, anyway? Besides, I like annoying you, and as soon as I found out that I could call you Abby…well… I jumped at the chance.”

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose through the mask.

“Aw, come on, Perce. You know I’m only teasing,” he said, slapping me on the back.

Of course. He said that every time as well. He was only teasing.

“Alright, Proteus. Just remind me to tell you all about it when I get back.”

Right before I jumped through, I heard him call out, “Wait! What are you talking abo-?” I didn’t even hear the end of his question – though I knew what he was going to say – because the portal closed behind me, sealing me in.

Landing gracefully upon my exiting of the portal, I thanked the past five thousand years of practice. Now, it is nearly impossible to look back and wonder how I had been so clumsy my first time. It seemed impossible to pull off such an unsteady journey through a portal nowadays.

My boots then came to rest on a Jurassic terrain, and I knew I had arrived. Around me, tall palms stretched toward the blue stars above, their wide leaves taking in the intense energy gladly. In the distance to my left, I saw a volcano – no, two volcanos, one of which was dormant, and the other, active. Along the earth, I saw a wide path, littered with reptilian footprints, and, seeing as they would lead me to my target, I followed them toward the dormant giant.

However, I didn’t use the path. It would have been too obvious to the merchants and bandits along the way – I was rather famous around the universe – and just about anyone could warn Comnøgn that I’d come for him. It was better to keep the element of surprise on my side.

Instead, I jumped tree to tree, my dark form masked by my speed alone as I practically flew toward my destination. Through the early morning light, I arrived. His home, like all others on this planet, was built into the side of the mountain, carved into the very rock. That meant that they were very sturdy, but it also meant that I could easily sneak through the window – as there were no coverings to keep anything or any _one_ out.

I entered his home, holding the warrant for his arrest in my hand. I was to take him in, but if he were to resist, I had full disclosure to end him where he stood. He’d already been given his chance, and he’d already blown it. Thievery and murder of five fellow narosauri marked Comnøgn’s record, and now, his plans to start an intergalactic war called for his death.

Standing over his bed, my wings flexed, gathering shadows around me in the room. I coughed, startling him awake. Almost immediately, he was on his feet, still in his nightgown. His reptilian tail scratched against the rough stone floor in his haste, and his slit-pupilled eyes widened as he saw me.

“Wh-who are you?” he demanded, “What do you want?”

“Fletrù Comnøgn, you are under arrest for multiple counts of assault and murder, as well as the suspicion of your plot to cause an intergalactic war between this planet and its neighbour.”

He jerked backward. Quick as a flash, he grabbed a poker from his fireplace, holding it between us threateningly. “You can’t do this! Who do you think you are?”

“I am Abaddon, heir to the throne of Cofando. I am the bringer of peace and justice, but also doom. To you, today, I deliver doom.”

“You will not!” He seemed determined. “I will not come with you alive!”

I smiled. On the outside. On the inside, however, I felt only pain. I didn’t want to kill him. It would solve our problem, of course, but taking lives gave me no pleasure, even if it meant the prosperity of thousands of others. There should always be another way.

Alas, for me, there wasn’t. I said to the man in front of me, “You do not have to come with me alive,” and then I slit his throat. Before he even touched the ground, I set him alight with Voidfyre, burning away his body. His soul has already escaped to the afterlife, and now, his body can be put at rest.

As I left, I took comfort in knowing that he would be sent to the Void to be judged and receive the fairest punishment he could be given. He would be refined, and then, someday, he may be reborn.

My mission having been completed, I opened a portal and stepped through, set on my return to Cofando. My feet touched down in my room within seconds, and I signalled to Haetros to join me at my desk as I sat down to fill out my report.

 _“Greetings, Abaddon. I trust your mission was a success?”_ he asked.

 _“As always,”_ Tile boasted.

 _“Quiet,”_ I snapped at the monster spirit, _“You did not even help with this one, as per usual.”_

 _“I do help! Sometimes…”_ Tile protested, but by the end, he didn’t seem to be very confident in his words.

 _“Emphasis on sometimes,”_ Crypt responded sarcastically.

Suddenly, the door hissed, opening to reveal nine figures in the hall. Looking back at Haetros in a panic, I relaxed when I found that he’d already disguised himself, keeping him hidden from view. Every time someone was around me, he’d done that, making himself appear ghostly to me, but invisible to everyone else.

“Hey, Abaddon. We just heard that you were back,” Proteus said.

“From who?” I asked, my eyebrows raising. I’d only been back for a few minutes. How could they have heard and possibly gotten here so fast…?

“Chaos…” Proteus replied.

He was immediately slapped on the arm by Hester. “No, we didn’t! You forced us to stand outside his door this whole time. All the while you had your ear pressed right up against the wall to hear when he’d be back! If I didn’t know any better, _boy_ , I’d say you were in love with him, seeing as how to hang off his every word!” she snarled. Obviously, she had better things to do.

“I do not!” Proteus argued. He looked around at the group, who was giving him skeptical looks. “I don’t!”

“Anyway,” Seraphina said. She stepped forward and placed a calming hand on Hester’s arm. Said captain relaxed in an instant, put under the calming effect of Sera’s touch. “What was it that you wanted to tell us? I recall you instructing Proteus to remind you once you returned.”

I shifted uncomfortably. Oh right. That. I’d decided to finally come clean with them about Haetros and the Cryptile; I’d been preparing for this conversation all week, but as soon as I could feel it approaching, I felt the need to clamp up as I always did. To hide from everyone, even my closest friends – who had stood by and served me without fault for over five thousand years.

“Please sit,” I said, motioning to the couches, “You’ll definitely want to sit to hear this.”

They sat.

At first, I thought that sitting would make me feel more confident. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Running scenario after scenario in my head didn’t work, either, as every one of them ended the same – my friends walking out on me, hating me, not being able to look at me ever again. I didn’t want to have to face that, but they were looking at me expectantly, and I couldn’t back down. I was already so close to letting them see me – the real me – for the first time.

“I know that you may have noticed, but… I’ve been keeping something from you.” That was a good lead-in. Yes. It would all be fine.

“Of course, Percy, but you know that we’d never force you to tell us. We know that when you’re ready, you’ll let us in,” Seraphina told me, her voice soft. I took a few seconds to revel in how much she’d changed. No longer was she the shy girl who would sit in the corner at school dances, hiding behind an overly large floppy hat to avoid conversation. She’d grown into a beautiful woman, a leader, a healer, and a wife. I smiled at the thought of her wedding. It was such a happy time…

Snapping back to reality, I said, “Yes. And now… I think it’s time to divulge the secret that I’ve been keeping from you ever since I first arrived – since my first mission.”

 _“Be calm, Abaddon,”_ Crypt advised, his soothing words filling my brain.

 _“Yeah,”_ Tile piped up, “ _If you worry, that only means you’ll suffer twice! Or at least once, if everything goes according to plan…”_

 _“Not helping!”_ Crypt hissed back at him.

 _“Both of you, shut up for a moment! I’m trying to think!”_ I complained.

Turning my focus back to my friends, I said, “Remember my first mission, back when I started?”

They nodded.

“Of course! You were made general right after that! Everyone knows the story of how you valiantly destroyed the Cryptile,” Caminus replied. He sat together with Adara; their fingers intertwined. The happy couple was still going strong, just like Seraphina and hers, and Proteus and his.

“What if I told you that I didn’t destroy him,” I asked in response to Caminus’ comment.

Proteus’ jaw dropped. “What do you mean, you didn’t destroy him? Your mission was a success! How else could that have happened?”

“Of course, it was a success. It only said that I would have to defeat him, and then keep him secure. I’m doing exactly that. It doesn’t mean I destroyed him,” I replied, running my fingers through my hair. I waited, nervously, as they digested the new information. I both hated and anticipated their questions.

“Please be more specific, my friend,” Hester said, “When you say that you’re keeping him secure, what do you mean by that?”

“I defeated both halves of the immortal in a duel, and I had them at my mercy, but staring down at them, I found myself unable to finish them off. It just didn’t seem right to end them under no charges. It simply wasn’t their time to be judged, so I stepped back, intending to let them go free.”

The others were leaning forward on the couch, drinking in every word that fell from my lips. Their eyes were wide with wonder and excitement, now finally ecstatic to hear about my troubles directly from the horse’s mouth.

“I was ready to return and tell Chaos and Order that I could not complete the mission they assigned to me, when the Cryptile spoke, saying a mere thank you to me for sparing them. They both became energy at that point - glowing balls of energy that grew smaller and more concentrated before they both flew towards me and…” I trailed off, merely pointing at my chest. I rubbed along my ribcage, as if tending an old wound, even though it had been over five thousand years since the incident.

My friends were left speechless.

“The Cryptile is inside of you?” Constantine exclaimed, utterly gobsmacked.

I only nodded, not meeting their eyes. I couldn’t decipher how they felt by the sound of their voices – other than the fact that they were shocked - but I couldn’t take the risk that there was horror on their faces. I couldn’t handle the looks of contempt from people whom I considered to be my friends. I didn’t want to be a monster.

Not again.

Suddenly, Proteus asked, “Can we see?”

I startled. I wasn’t expecting that. Slowly lifting my gaze, I met their eyes, which held more curiosity than anything. I nearly scoffed. If they knew the rest of it, they would surely lose that in favour of disgust.

Giving in to their pleading gazes, I snapped my fingers, summoning the Voidfyre. It writhed in the air above my hand, as if it both attracted and repelled each other colour. The four separate flames danced, faster and faster until they extinguished as I snapped a second time.

Looking at them again, I still saw the curiosity, but there was awe there, too. I saw fear as well. They knew, of course, that it looked beautiful, but if they got too close, their souls would most definitely be ripped from their bodies in the most painful way imaginable. Their entire state of being would be reaped viciously and then they would cease to exist from all of eternity.

“It’s true, then,” Seraphina said.

I looked at her, meeting her eyes as she stared at me, her brown orbs widening in with realization.

“What’s true?” I asked. I knew what she was about to say – or at least, I was pretty sure I knew – but I wanted to hear it from her own lips.

“You wield Voidfyre, and, even though we’ve never met him, you’ve bonded with the Shadow Lord. Those facts put together with your black wings…” she trailed off before saying, “You are the one from the Prophecy. The true heir to all the universe, not just Cofando.”

I smiled. “His name is Haetros,” I said.

“Hmm?” Adara asked, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow.

“The Shadow Lord. His name is Haetros.” Turning my head, I said, “You may come out now.”

At my words, Haetros allowed himself to become visible. He was lying on my bed, once again preferring it over his bed. Giving a loud yawn, he stretched out, his claws flexing and his wings extending to their full length.

“Everyone, this is Haetros. Haetros, this is everyone.”

 _“Nice to finally meet you,”_ he said, though his eyes met and remained fixed on me, letting me know to express his greeting to them.

“He says that it’s nice to meet you, finally,” I translated.

In reaction to the awe they presented to him through their unabashed staring, Haetros lit his horn with Voidfyre, wielding it like a spear as he jumped to his feet, giving a proud howl. He then gave a wolfish smirk, flashing his teeth.

Jumping off the bed, he walked over to me, extending his neck to give me space to scratch behind his ears. Then, he returned to my bed and curled up, letting his wings wrap tightly around his body. Pretty soon, snores began to rise from him.

“Thank you for sharing with us, Percy,” Adara said.

“I’m not done yet, though,” I said, “There is still one more thing. Call it a… side effect of the Cryptile’s soul merging with mine.”

I closed my eyes. Feeling deep within myself, I let my soul brush up against Tile’s.

 _“Are you sure?”_ he asked.

I nodded. It must’ve confused my friends, but that didn’t matter at the moment as I said to Tile, _“Yes.”_

 _“Okay,”_ he said.

Seconds later, I felt it. The power flooded me once again, and my feathers were forcefully pushed from wings. They all fluttered to the ground, causing cries of alarm to rise from my friends.

Next, I felt my skin harden, turning to scales. My bones shifted beneath my skin – not as bad as the first time, but still a considerable amount. My face stretched, nose and mouth fusing into a snout. I felt a sharp point pierce my skull and knew the horns had extended.

Finally, when my transformation was complete, I stood before them in Tile’s beast form – a dragon-human hybrid with dark scales, leathery black wings, and gleaming white teeth lined up in rows just behind my dry, reptilian lips.

First, I was looking down at my smooth hands, though the knuckles were bonier than before. They looked almost human, except for how my thumb was attached slightly higher on my arm than it should’ve been, and my nails were now claws that slid out of my fingertips, completely retractable.

In the hopes that they wouldn’t panic, I forced myself to look up at my friends. This was it. The moment that I knew whether they were truly my friends or not. Whether they would accept me for all my power and my flaws.

Meeting their eyes, I saw only horror.

I turned, immediately changing back, and walking away from them.

“Leave,” I commanded, my voice even despite the raging turmoil that was swirling within me. They didn’t accept me. They were terrified of me. How could I have been so stupid? Of course, they wouldn’t accept me for who I was! I was a monster! Quite literally, unfortunately.

They didn’t even protest, just filed out of the room, slowly, and in perfect order of authority. At least…now I knew. I knew I couldn’t trust them to see me for my personality and not my powers.


	9. Not the Meeting I Was Expecting

As soon as I clicked the button on the timer to record my time, I heard Chaos over the loudspeaker. His voice was smooth and easy to understand, which was a relief after all those years on earth of crackling PA systems. “All captains meet in the Council Chambers! General Perseus, your presence is also requested!”

It was hard to believe that this had been my life for nearly five thousand years. It felt like only yesterday I was confronted by those three titans in the woods, defeating them before meeting my brutal end. It wasn’t, though. Yesterday, I told my friends my darkest secrets, bared my very soul to them and they could not accept me for what I was. My greatest fear made real.

The solid soles of my leather boots clapped loudly on the freshly waxed marble floor as I headed to the biannual council meeting. It was twice a year, hence _biannual_ meetings, just like the Olympians.

I shuddered involuntarily as my mind made that connection. Just the thought of the Olympian gods made shivers run down my spine. I’d tried to stop it – I’d forgiven them a long time ago – but I couldn’t help the heavy, sinking feeling that settled in my gut every time I thought of them. They’d betrayed me, and nothing would let me forget that.

Nothing.

 _“I have said this before, but I shall say it again, Abaddon,”_ Crypt said, _“I am terribly sorry for your loss. I wish that there was some other way that Tile and I could be there for you, but as we do not have physical beings, we may only preside in your mind as emotional support.”_

I sighed through my nose, before immediately regretting it as the coldness of the hall made it seem like icicles had grown way up in my sinuses.

 _“Shut up, Crypt,”_ Tile grumbled, nearly voicing my thoughts exactly.

My mind wandered a little more as I walked the halls toward the Council Chambers, knowing the route off by heart. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, ever since my first day, Chaos and Order have been making me see a therapist. Twice a week, I’ be in her office, sitting in her comfy chair and telling her about my problems. Her name was Thea, and she was quite pretty – I admit – though I don’t think I could ever see her as anything more than a friend.

After Annabeth hurt me, I don’t think my heart will ever heal. The organ in my chest – while still beating – felt like it would never put itself back together after it shattered that night on the beach. If I were to ever love anyone in that way again, it would be a long time from now.

I barely even noticed the tears gathering in my eyes as a spark of pain shot through my chest. I just hope that she finds someone new to love. We didn’t work out, and I accept that, but the whole situation makes me feel as though I cannot trust anyone in that way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to again.

Finally, my hands rested on the doors leading to the Council Chambers, and I allowed myself to focus. I steeled my nerves and pushed on the door…before realizing that it was a pull door.

I walked inside. Almost immediately, I was attacked by the invading aroma of pine, telling me that Proteus was already in his seat. He always wore pine-scented cologne, which melded horribly with Seraphina’s lemongrass shampoo and Caminus’ overpowering charcoal and wrought iron stench from the forges. Luckily, those three weren’t often found together unless during an important meeting.

Closing the doors behind me, I reached down and pulled on the chain around my neck – a necklace that everyone in the army had, containing a charm. Mine was a trident, split in two.

Connecting the two pieces, I felt the familiar weight of my armour appear over my uniform, fitting perfectly over my muscled frame. It was black, contrasting greatly with my mask, and shone brilliantly over my uniform. My cloak hung over it, though, and still, I felt astounded that the armour didn’t catch on the fabric of my clothing as it appeared over my uniform but under my cloak.

As the newest addition to my outfit, a gleaming black crown appeared on my head, studded with opals. It rested just above my hairline, and I hated it. I hated it ever since I was told to go to the fitting for it, but it was mandatory for the meetings and for interplanetary relations, meaning whenever I and the captains would go on a particularly difficult mission together.

I just hoped that none of those missions would be going on any time soon.

 _“Knock on cedar,”_ Tile said.

 _“Hush, imbecile,_ ” Crypt reprimanded, _“And the term is: knock on wood.”_

Quickly launched back to the present by Chaos’ cough, I stalked over to my throne, which was just to the right of Chaos’. Order sat on his other side and smiled at me as I sat down. I broke my façade only for a moment to smile back at her before shaping my face back into an emotionless expression. Glancing to my right, I saw four of the captains, and two my left, the other five sat on the opposite side of the two creators.

Settling back in the throne, I let my hands fall on the swirling green armrests. Beside me, Haetros curled up on a large violet pillow. Smiling as he closed his eyes, I turned to Chaos. “So,” I said, “What are we going to talk about today?”

After the words fell off my lips, I risked a glance around the room. Frowning as I picked up on the fact that none of my friends would meet my eyes, I realized that as my eyes left them, they stared at me unabashedly. My skin crawled, like thousands of ants were writhing over me. It was almost as if they were trying to see the monster within once more as if yesterday wasn’t enough for them.

When they were caught, they immediately dropped their gazes, guilt flashing – quick as hummingbird wings – in their faces.

“There is a new mission,” Chaos began, “One that requires the attendance of every one of you.”

Despite myself, I groaned loudly. Were the Fates always out to get me? A group mission was _exactly_ what I _didn’t_ want!

Chaos cleared his throat to once again regain the attention of the room. “As I was saying, this mission will require every single one of you, though, I fear that some of you may not appreciate the planet you are needed on.”

Suspense hung in the air – thick as honey but tough as steel. There was no way anyone would be able to cut it. I had enough of the dramatics. “What is it?” I demanded. “Don’t try to build the suspense, just tell us where we’re expected to go, and we’ll go!”

Chaos sped along, probably because my annoyance was palpable at that point in the conversation. Looking back, I was pretty sure that everyone could sense my irritation; it was rolling off me in waves as soon as I’d entered the room.

“You must travel to Terra Prime to defeat mine and Order’s younger brother, Destruction. He has risen, hoping to destroy the earth as recompense for his – in his view – wrongful imprisonment.”

My back immediately straightened as if some higher being had inserted a kebab skewer into my spine, and my eyes shot to Order’s face. She, like the others, wouldn’t meet my eyes due to the weight of the guilt in her expression. It brought me back to my first week on Cofando when she promised that I would never have to set foot on that dreaded planet again. Not after everything I’d been through. Not after the memories that it would stir up within me if I ever let my boots rest on the soil of Earth every again.

The room was silent. Not even the quiet hush of drawing breath was heard; it seemed as if everyone was waiting for the pin to drop.

I pushed my chair back, not even wincing as the legs scraped loudly against the floor. With my face turned toward the table, I said, “Okay.

Without even having to look, I knew there were eyebrows flying toward the ceiling.

“Okay,” I repeated. “I will go to Earth, but only to repay an old debt. After this mission, I will expect you to never ask this of me again, or I fear that _I_ will be the one to destroy it, not your villain.”

Chaos nodded as I lifted my head. “I accept your terms. You may leave, but before you go, I must thank you for your lenience, my prince and my heir,” he said, bowing his head.

Once back in the safety and privacy of my quarters, I disconnected my armour and collapsed on my bed. Too lazy to pack for myself, I snapped my fingers and my clothes walked themselves out of my closet, folded midair and laid themselves to rest in the suitcase that slid out from under my bed and unzipped, opening its gaping jaws.

A warm mound plunked onto the bed next to me and I reached over, letting my fingers scratch Haetros on the chin. He let out a rumbling noise – almost a purr but not – and pushed himself into my steadily moving hands, my fingernails just long enough to relieve him of his itch.

 _“Why Earth?”_ I asked him, not caring if I sounded like a whiny toddler. _“Why?”_

 _“Everything happens for a reason,”_ he answered, sage-like. _“Maybe this attack by Destruction is not a coincidence. He could have attacked any planet of thousands, and yet he chose Earth. I presume that it is the Fates’ design for you to return home and face your past. You must learn to forgive yourself – not just those who hurt you – for what happened. That is the only way you will cleanse your soul and finally be able to move on.”_

Sitting up, my wings fluttered in defiance. The feathers fluffed up, allowing a few bits of pitch-dark down to come loose and shed all over my sheets. _“That doesn’t mean I have to like it, do I?”_ I drawled childishly.

 _“Sorry, Abaddon, but do not lose hope. You must remain strong. Get through this, and things will become better for you and for the universe,”_ Crypt said, pitching in his own two cents worth of advice.

I sighed, letting the huge breath come out of my mouth, nearly emptying my lungs. _“I hate it when you guys make sense. Usually when it means I’m wrong,”_ I grumbled. _“Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to raze some more robots. The calming effects of the group this morning were nullified by the meeting.”_

 _“Go right ahead, we aren’t stopping you,”_ Tile hissed in my ear.

After two more hours of training, and my sword having to be cleaned at least four times of the oil and powders of the robots, I stepped into the showers, letting the ice-cold water run over me.

When I first started the tradition of ice-cold showers, it was something that I told myself would never stick. I’d jumped in and out of the first one several times, shivers running up and down my spine to the point where it hurt. The second time was better, and I learned to start with hot and just cool it slowly. After that, it wasn’t so bad. After four thousand years of conditioning, I barely felt the difference anymore.

Stepping out of the shower, I found that I’d timed it perfectly as I heard Chaos announce that we were due to leave in fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes until I would set foot on Earth once again. Even though I would be under the guise of another, I could still feel pain rip through my chest at the thought of my home planet. I would smell the dull air – not as sweet as Cofando, but not as bitter or sour as other planets I’d been to. I would feel the heaviness of the atmosphere again, the same, dull pull of gravity on the soles of my feet, like the sinking feeling of an empty stomach – or the feeling of eating a dragon berry for the first time. Ugh.

Drying off and dressing, I shook out my wet hair and grabbed my suitcase. It shrunk into a shoulder bag, reminding me that it could do that. It, like most of my valuables, gifted from grateful citizens who were serviced by my deeds. This bag was gifted to me by a coven of witches on a lonely little planet in the seventh dimension. They hadn’t even had enough food to eat but had enchanted a hand-sewn bag for me to carry all my belongings so that I would have everything I needed wherever I went.

As I teleported into the throne room, I felt my crown once again appear on my head, weighing down my still-wet hair. I hadn’t bothered to dry my hair because it cooled my head refreshingly, and I would most likely get a headache from this trip.

“I have already informed the Olympians of your arrival,” Chaos said as soon as he saw that everyone was in the room. “They will greet you in the camp, so I might as well open the portal for you here and now. No need to go all the way to the portal room to organize your interdimensional travel.”

My heart thudded in my chest, so loud that I was worried it would shake the palace. _“Here goes nothing,”_ I thought.

Glancing at the others, I felt a twinge of heat pawing at my chest, curling around my heart, but I ignored it as each of us received a portal – directly beneath our feet. The last thing I saw was Chaos’ smiling face as he and Order waved to us.

My weight dropped, and darkness swallowed me up – unlike any other portal I’d been in. I could barely think as I felt my hands reach up to make sure my mask was on my face, letting out a breath of relief as it was.

Looking down as a small light shone from below, I saw yellow sunlight, green grass, and trees. In the distance, there was a cluster of little buildings. I knew it anywhere. It was the Earth’s only known demigod camp: Olympus Maximus.


	10. Back on Terra Firma

As I was sucked back into reality, my world turning on its top, I found myself and the Captains miles above the surface of the Earth. As the portals opened randomly in the sky, dropping us before snapping shut again – with the light sound of pop rocks from my childhood memories – we stared down at the demigod camp. Or maybe up? Because, of course, Chaos dropped us off upside down.

My first thought was filled with annoyance at the creator, because it was, _“Seriously? Couldn’t he have aimed better?”_

However, before any of my three brain buddies could answer wittingly, a second thought crashed its way into my head. It, unlike the first, was far less reasonable, because it was, _“AHHHHHHHHH!”_

The ever-trustworthy gravity of Earth took effect and we began to plummet. The wind whipped at my face, whistling in my ears so loud that everything else was blocked out. I could nearly feel my skin being ripped off my face as we accelerated towards the ground.

I felt only slight panic because I remembered that I’d be able to survive, but the other soldiers must’ve felt differently because they began to spread their wings in a desperate move to catch themselves before I stopped them. I might still be upset with them, but not even I would risk using my wings as a parachute without proper preparation.

 _“Let’s make an entrance,”_ I said to them telepathically. Smirking slightly as I sent images of what I wanted them to do, I thought, privately, “This is sure to give the campers one Hades of a scare.”

Following my directions, the others tucked in their wings, the white feathers rippling like leaves in a hurricane against their backs. I vaguely felt my uniform flapping heavily back and forth on my legs, but it was almost surreal because the deafening roar of the wind made it silent.

As our descent continued, I could easily tell that our speed had become intense. Flames formed around us as the captains fell into position around me. Our diamond of winged men and women was coated in an inferno; small blazes flickered around us. To lighten our landing and to shield us from the burning heat, I uttered an incantation under my breath, feeling the power flowing through me as a shield manifested itself, blocking us from the fire. I’m glad I did; we would’ve fried otherwise. Well, they would’ve.

Suddenly, a loud bang – louder than the wind’s scream – echoed in my ears. We’d broken the sound barrier, and it was almost as if some primal creature had sensed it and bellowed a ferocious announcement of our arrival.

Obviously, down below it was lunchtime. There was a multitude of campers in and around the dining pavilion, mingling with one another as they ate. At least we’d have the wide-open space of the field nearby, where we would be able to land without any relative damage. Most importantly, though, we’d be able to make a dramatic entrance – as I’d planned.

And so, we landed, creating a rather large crater. It wasn’t very deep since each of us landed at the same time. That made sure the crater was wide, throwing a cloud of dust in the air, but there was only so much displacement of the earth we could do.

Standing, I sent pulses of my energy to the others as I sensed their weariness. The landing drained them, understandably, and since it had been my idea, it was only fitting that I made sure they were in a fit state. They were my captains after all, and I oversaw their activities and was responsible for their well being.

As the dust cleared, I brushed off some dirt from my uniform. It was non-existent, of course, because the uniforms were all equipped with frictionless material to repel such things as dirt. It helped when on planets that had heavy soil and sandstorms because after days of the desert, it would become tiring to drag ever sand dune along on one’s shoulders.

Campers had gathered in the short time that it took for us to land and the dust to clear. I commended them – silently in my head – for their quick reactions because some of them carried weapons and others even wore armour, expecting an attack and prepared to fight to defend their home.

I wasn’t surprised to see the campers standing there, or that Chiron was in the crowd with Dionysus. No. I was surprised to discover the gods – the rest of the gods – standing amongst their children, also carrying their weapons and looking prepared to fight for the camp’s territory against invaders. Each god or goddess stood by their children – or in Artemis’ case, her hunters.

Quickly schooling my face into a calm façade, I allowed my lips to fall into a firm, straight line and my cheeks to lose all wrinkles. No smile, no frown, no emotion.

“I can assume that you were the warriors sent by Chaos, correct?”

I turned to face Chiron, who as spoken. “You are indeed correct, Chiron,” I replied, using a voice that I only ever used when playing the role of the prince, as I did now. My crown was on and therefore, I used this voice.

“The gods and I know who you are,” Chiron continued, gesturing to the gods as they lowered their weapons, “But I fear introduction would have to be made to fully appease my students, their children. We have just been through a traumatizing ordeal a few years back and I believe that everyone is still a bit on edge.”

I smiled beneath my mask, allowing a friendly expression to be the first they would see. “Of course, my good centaur. Allow me,” I said. “We are all members of the eternal army. Led by Order and Chaos, I am the general and these are my captains. They are the best and brightest in the universe. I would not trust anyone more with my life and limb on the field of battle.”

Though it would not be visible to the earthlings, I could sense the guilt radiating off the captains as I spoke of them in words of praise. I spoke of trust with such sincerity when only days ago they trampled mine – it must’ve killed them inside. Later, I should appease them as well, but first, to finish my speech.

“I fear that we are here in a time of war, as an immortal being by the name of Destruction had risen to exact his revenge, beginning with the Earth. To stop him, we are here, and we will also offer any and all assistance that is needed of us. You have my word as Peacekeeper of the Stars.”

Chiron seemed speechless – as did they all – before he collected himself and replied. “I see. Thank you for coming on such short notice, but if I may ask… who is this Destruction you speak of? We have just succeeded in fighting back Gaea and her minions and were told that you would be coming, but I do not believe that Chaos ever informed us of a new threat to our very existence.”

My smile turned on its head. “I am sorry. I was unaware that you were misinformed by my lord. For you to truly understand the dilemma, I must explain… In the beginning, when Chaos and Order began their creations, they were not the only ones. Their brother, Balance, was the peacekeeper. He made sure that between them, everything was as if should be, and for many millennia, it was. Now, not even I am sure how it happened, but Balance became…disturbed. He became focused on cleansing the universe of life and beginning anew, remaking everything in his image. He became Destruction and was locked away in an ancient prison – which was deep in a place known simply as the Void – by his siblings. Now, he had gathered enough power to escape and had broken free of his prison. He plans to raze all life as you know it and beyond, beginning with the third life-giving planet, Earth.”

For a few, stretched seconds, everything was silent as the gods, campers, and nature spirits stood in front of us, trying to process my words. Pretty soon, though, I saw every eye in front of me widen in utter horror.

“Who cares?” a pompous voice called out, “I bet I could beat this Destruction guy easily! He’s no match for me, just like you and your wimpy army.”

Immediately, my eyes narrowed. I knew that voice. How could I possibly hear that voice? Hadn’t it been five thousand years? Hadn’t he died long ago? Wait. No. I could see other campers that I’d known before I died, too. What is this? Had they all been made immortal? Had they made that moronic fool immortal?

I spun around and could only feel my rage intensifying as Damian Parker, son of Zeus, pushed his way to the front of the crowd. Deep in my throat, a growl formed, escaping between my clenched teeth. It was low and animalistic, filled with utter hate for the boy who ruined my life. My nerves felt like they were exploding all over my body, and I forced myself to use every drop of self-control that I had to not turn into my beast form right then and there and rip him to shreds.

He looked almost exactly as I remembered him, maybe five years older or so, but I wouldn’t tell him that.

“And who might you be? I don’t recall you being in the history books,” I asked, and I was surprised by how calm and collected my voice sounded, despite my true feelings for this terrible person.

“I am the greatest hero to ever live! Surely, you’ve heard of me!” he boasted, throwing his arms wide in the air for emphasis.

I was able to school my lips into a thin smile before saying, “No, I can’t say that I have. I do, however, know many great heroes. I’ve heard of Odysseus, Achilles, and Jason, just to name a few. Here, as well, I see the fabled Seven, and I’ve heard of those lost, as well. The one to defeat Kronos, Luke Castellan,” a few campers flinched at the mention of Kronos. “Zoë Nightshade, the Huntress,” Artemis smiled sadly, “and of course, all those who died fighting in your two wars.”

Damian went to speak, but I cut him off.

“There was one more that is coming back to me. A great hero, who fought Kronos with all his might. Who beat down Gaea for the love of his family and the love of his friends? A humble man with more power than any could have ever imagined. What was his name again?”

As I’d described myself, I saw Damian’s chest swell with pride; he must’ve thought I was talking about him. How, I don’t know, because he hadn’t fought in either of the wars. Maybe he’d assumed that all my accomplishments as Percy had been weighted onto his name because I was the “forgotten traitor”.

“So, I see you _have_ heard of me!” he said.

I shook my head. “No. I think I’d remember if a pathetic name like ‘Damian Parker’ was the one written in my books. It had a ‘J’ in it, for sure. I remember because I like the letter ‘J’.”

My comment brought a few peals of laughter from the crowd.

“Oh, yes,” I continued, pretending to remember. “His name was Perseus Jackson.”

“Percy,” a different, yet familiar voice called out, “He preferred Percy.”

It was Annabeth. She, too, looked the same as ever, if only slightly older than herself as I knew her. She’d aged well, though. I expected her to be wearing a wedding ring, married to that idiot, Damian, but it seemed not.

I gave a sharp nod in her direction. “Of course.”

Then, turning back to Damian, I took a step forward. “I do know who you are, in truth, but you are no hero.” I was right in front of him, staring down the bridge of my mask’s nose to glare directly into his eyes.

“Damian Parker, born September 3rd, XXXX. You were left in an orphanage by parents who did not want you but were later adopted by a rich couple and were raised as a spoiled little boy. You grew up with your own group of boys, who only hung out with you because you were a bully and would’ve gone against them, too, if they didn’t stand by your side. You didn’t care about your grades at school, though, and were happy to drop out as soon as you hit the tenth grade, but your parents didn’t seem to care. You had everything you ever wanted. That is…until the fire.” I whispered my words into his ear.

I smirked as Damian’s eyes widened. Of course, I’d just done all this research long ago, when I’d first joined the army. I’d been trying to understand what drove that boy to hate me so much after knowing me for so little time.

Damian stumbled slightly at my words. “H-how do you know about that?” he stuttered; his voice raised an octave. The panic was wild in his eyes.

“I know a lot of things. I know that you were the only one to escape the flames. I know you were the one to start the fire.” I leaned in closer to him. “I know that you were the one who killed your family, and that makes you a murderer.”

He let out a yelp, and I smiled, relishing in his fear. In all my life, I’d never hated anything so much, and a warm feeling grew within in me as I made him feel scared.

Stepping away from him, I walked back to my position at the head of my army. Looking back, Damian was on his knees, hands over his head as he was engulfed by the horrid memories of his past. I scowled. He deserved it.

“What did you do to him?” Annabeth asked.

“I didn’t do anything. He’s just remembering the pain that he has caused in his life,” I replied shortly.

“Now that…um…you’ve finished, how about we get to introductions?” Zeus asked. It wasn’t a demand or anything. The only thing to make him sound politer would be if he’d said ‘please’! “I am Zeus, king of Olympus.”

I raised my hand to stop him. “No need for introductions on your part. We know exactly who every one of you is, already. The Earth hasn’t changed much since last I was here, so I’d assume that time travels at a different pace than it does on our home planet, Cofando,” I explained. “However, my soldiers and I are due for an introduction.”

Luke spoke first from my right-hand side. “I am Proteus, captain of the first battalion. We specialize in melee fighting.”

Zoë went next. “I am Hester and I oversee the third battalion. Our specialty is long-range attacks, while I myself use the bow as my weapon of choice.” She brandished her bow, made of shiny wood and strung with only the finest sinew. I noticed that her eyes drifted to Artemis for half a second before she introduced herself.

“I am Seraphina, captain of the second battalion. I am also the healer of our group.”

Silena and Beckendorf went up together. “We are Caminus and Adara, and we are the captains of the fourth and fifth sectors of the army. Our battalions both specialize in the mastery of many different weapons and can use a wide variety during battle.

Lee Fletcher spoke after them, “My name is Jace. I am another of the top healers in the army. While Seraphina is the main healer for our group, I oversee the medical needs of the entire army. My sector is the medical wing, and I personally oversee the training of our medics.

His brother went next. “I am Belen, another archer. My battalion is the seventh, and we are the archers, usually.”

Only two remained, and both were relatively quick.

“My name is Constantine, and I train all those who are sent as spies to gather intel or evidence behind enemy lines.”

“My name is Vinum, and I train the soldiers in endurance and terrain. My soldiers are usually the ones sent to long battles in rough climates because there are many planets that are nearly uninhabitable but are still called home.”

Finally, it was my turn, and then we’d be done. “Now, I believe I'm last–” I was cut off by a portal opening next to me. Out of it jumped a black four-legged figure, covered in feathers and fur. It was Haetros, and he landed right next to me.


	11. So Maybe I'm Showing Off...

A strange, glowing portal opened directly next to the general, appearing in the air like the splash of a pebble in the water, but played in reverse. It interrupted the hooded man as he was speaking, but it wasn’t the portal that caused him to pause, it was the figure that burst forth from it.

A large creature jumped out, landing on light paws. It was something the likes of which none of the campers, gods, or spirits had seen before. With the shining body of a wolf, the charcoal wings of a raven, and the argent horn of a unicorn, the creature stood tall and proud, chest pressed forward, and wings flared to the sides. He stood, the size of a dire wolf next to the general, his perked ears level with the man’s shoulders.

Suddenly, to the surprise of all but the general, all the Pegasi galloped or soared into the clearing and bowed to the new creature. No one made a noise; even the wildlife from the forest had fallen silent – out of respect or fear, the audience could only guess. It was if they were all waiting for something to happen.

As the hybrid creature had landed, he stopped at the general’s side, the latter who patted his neck in greeting, stroking his fur gently. A smile spread across his face, breaking the calm façade that he’d worn since arriving. Finally, he turned back to the crowd, seeing that Athena and all her children had been studying him and his new companion.

“I apologize for the interruption. Allow me to introduce myself. I am-”

Once again, he was unable to finish as Athena said, “You are the heir to the universe, isn’t that correct? Wielder of the Voidfyre and companion to the Shadow Lord?”

The general’s smile faded for half a second before returning, though this smile seemed condescending rather than one borne of content. “Yes, you would be correct in that assumption, Lady Athena,” he said, “As I was saying, however, my name is Abaddon, general of the Eternal army, and this is my companion for the past five thousand years, Haetros. He is, as you call him, the Shadow Lord.”

Gasps filled the clearing, giving life to the invisible wave of disbelief that washed over them. Of course, they’d all heard the legend of the Shadow Lord. It was one of the few that they considered myths, but the story was still told around the campfires on nights of jest. It was, after all, just a legend.

Or so they thought, until this moment, when the Shadow Lord himself threw his head back in a loud howl, then punctuated his cry with a low growl.

Immediately upon realizing whom they were looking at, the crowd slowly sank to their knees, each camper bowing their heads, each spirit bent low, and even the gods sunk to the ground, lower than their lord, General Abaddon. As heir to the universe, he had power that Zeus himself could only ever dream of, rivalling the creators themselves.

Abaddon waved for them to stand almost as soon as the first camper knelt, however, and they all sunk down, though only for a second before rising again, with slight hesitation in their movements.

He was silent for a few seconds, as if having a mental debate, wherein he broke his peace by asking, “My Lord Zeus, if I may ask, why are you and the other gods here at the demigod camp? Why are you not on Olympus? I was led to believe that the gods rarely had contact with their children.”

Zeus almost seemed to flinch at the mention of his title, but didn’t address it, instead opting to answer the question asked of him. “For the past five years, we – the Olympians and I – have visited the demigod camp often to spend time with our children. You see, a few years ago, we had a terrible misunderstanding, which could have easily been fixed if only we’d given our children the time and attention they deserve.

Abaddon was intrigued, though it was hard to tell under his mask. His mouth twitched, the only thing showing his interest. “What happened?” he asked.

“A young hero by the name of Perseus Jackson was wronged in the worst of ways. He was abandoned by his friends and his father, and yet, when he was given the chance to betray us, he did not. Instead, he was slain in a battle against three of our enemies, defeating them, but in the process, being mortally wounded. We could not save him, but we let him be an example for all heroes that come after,” Zeus explained.

“We will not allow anyone else to die the same way,” Annabeth said with a hint of sorrow in her voice.

“The price of our enlightenment shouldn’t have been that boy’s life. He did not deserve to die in that way. We should have learned from our mistakes before. Been wiser,” Athena said. Her eyes were glistening with tears as she spoke, but her stormy grey orbs also held frustration. Frustration towards her tears, and towards the blindness she had displayed during the unfortunate events five years prior.

Artemis spoke next, his voice soft, but determined to be heard. “He was the only man I ever approved of,” she said - almost wistfully. “He never boasted, though he had every right to speak about his many achievements. And even when we’d left him beaten and broken, he did not betray us to our enemies, instead, fighting until his dying breath to defend us. We did not deserve a hero like him, but…I just wish I could have spoken to him before it all happened. I had a lot to say…” her voice trailed off as a light blush dusted her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say the last bit aloud.

As Abaddon turned to look at her, his heart turned over in his chest, butterflies coming to life within. He felt a sudden swarm of bees begin to buzz in his belly, almost causing him to shiver, but he refrained. Confusion flooded his brain. What was happening? He had no idea what was going on with him, but he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on the moon goddess for a few seconds longer than was appropriate. Her luscious auburn hair was as curled as it had always been, and her silver eyes sparkled less than he remembered, and yet, she grew more beautiful the longer he stared.

Then their words sank in, and Abaddon almost startled from shock. They cared about him? Missed him? Remembered him? Why? They had abandoned him for another hero, but now that he’d returned, albeit unknown to them, he learned that they’d changed nearly all their habits for the better in his honour. He had never known. How could he? He’d been looking forward to hating this mission. He’d been expecting it to be hard to come back and defend the people who had scorned him, but how could he do so if they had done all this for him, even after his death?

Before he’d died, there had only been a few who hadn’t abandoned him. Namely, Apollo, the god of truth, Hades and Hestia, the gods whom he’d given thrones on Olympus, and Artemis, who viewed him as the only decent man to walk the earth.

“Where is Poseidon, then? Does he not have children of his own to visit?”

“I’m afraid not, Lord Abaddon,” Zeus replied, true concern easily heard in his voice, “After Percy, Poseidon did not have any more demigod children. He has not had any contact with mortals at all for five years now. He is far too absorbed in grieving his son’s death to this day.”

“I see,” Abaddon said. He was truly horrified. What if his father faded? If he no longer had the will to live, then what would that mean for the god of the seas, and in turn, all the world’s oceans? Turning to look past the camp, he saw that the water was, indeed, dead-looking. “I’m sorry to hear that.” His eyes remained on the beachfront as he spoke to Zeus. “If there is anything, we can do to help the situation, please let us know.”

“I think nothing short of bringing his son back will raise Poseidon out of his depression, or he will fade soon, and meet his end in the void,” the youngest of the Big Three answered solemnly. His eyes, too, focused on the ocean, its greyish colour almost like watered-down ink. Even the sand of the beach had turned from sloping white hills to gritty black granules.

“Percy was always the best at comforting people. If… he was still alive, that is,” Annabeth muttered. A single tear slipped down her face, creating a track along her cheek and under her chin.

Abaddon’s gaze turned sad as he stared at her. The pain in his heart resurfaced if only just a little as he did so. She had broken his heart, and even just looking at her was painful. She had thrown him away from a new hero as soon as h had arrived at the camp, but as Abaddon continued to watch her, he saw the heartbreak in her eyes, too. She was just as sad as he was. What was that? She had been the one to leave him. Why would she be the one with a reason to shed tears?

Haetros was the one who snapped Abaddon out of his reveries with a lick to the hand. Smiling softly, Abaddon patted the wolf creature’s head once more. Turning to look at his companion, Abaddon saw the meaningful look that Haetros was giving him.

“I know,” he replied softly.

Just then, Chiron shuffled forward on his hooves. “Prince Abaddon, if I may inquire, sir…” he trailed off, his voice hesitant. Abaddon cut him off anyway.

“Master Chiron, I do not require such formalities, though everyone seems to think them a necessity. Please, just call me Abaddon. Now, what was your question?”

“Oh, yes,” Chiron said as if he suddenly remembered. “Where would you and your army sleep? I fear that we do not have enough rooms for you all at the Big House.”

Abaddon grinned at the old centaur. “Master Chiron, with your permission, my troops and I shall be sleeping in our cabin during our stay. And after we leave, you will not need to worry about it,” he replied. Then, the immortal signalled to his team and together, they walked toward the cabins.

As soon as they were gone, Chiron’s eyebrows raised. “Cabin?” he wondered aloud, before cantering off after the cloak-enwrapped group, which was quite far ahead due to their quick, marching, pace.

Knowing that the gods, campers, and centaur were following them, Abaddon and his team thought they’d give their audience a show. The general knew that they were all curious about the cabin that he had been speaking of, as they’d obviously never heard of such thing.

He stopped right at the edge of the woods near the cabins, close enough for it to be a part of the group, but far enough away that it was secluded. Also, from the edge of the tree, they’d be able to watch for enemies from a strong vantage point.

Turning to the captains, Abaddon asked, “What do you think? Should I put it here?”

Hester and Seraphina were obviously pleased by the placement, as it was also kind of close to cabin eight – the one that represented their former mistress. The others, unfortunately, were less than thrilled. Well, the boys weren’t thrilled. Adara and Caminus didn’t seem to care, as they were too busy making out. Meanwhile, Proteus, Jace, Belen, Constantine, and Vinum were shuffling nervously from foot to foot, obviously not wanting to be so close to the silver building.

 _“Well, sucks for them,”_ he said to Haetros and the Cryptile. All he heard were telepathic chuckles.

“We’re setting up camp here!” he announced, seeing as none of the boys argued with his decision when he’d asked. Smirking, Abaddon raised his hand, ready to summon a building using his powers of creation. His powers – while they weren’t on the level of Order or Chaos, could summon small things, such as objects, animals, or reasonably-sized buildings.

“What are you going to do?”

Abaddon turned to see who had spoken, only to be met with a crowd of campers and gods. He tensed as he realized that Annabeth had ben the one to speak. She was just as beautiful as ever, he couldn’t deny that, but he no longer saw her with the unrealistic glow he once had. She was dead to him, and no matter how hard she tried to get back in his favour, a little part of her always would be dead to him.

“Everyone, stand back,” he said, instead of answering her question.

Closing his eyes, he began to chant in the ancient language of the void. The words were soft and almost melded together, despite his stressed enunciation. As he spoke, the air began to shimmer, and a warp in the fabric of the universe appeared, before righting itself. In the place of the warp, a tall, dark-wooded cabin stood, with two floors and all the fixtures of a regular wood cabin.

The faces of the campers were written over with awe and admiration as they stared at the cabin that had just appeared – literally out of thin air! Abaddon smirked; he had made quite the impression. Silently, he applauded himself for deciding to speak in the language of the void rather than just snap his fingers to make the building for himself and the others.

“H-how did you do that?” Annabeth inquired, her tone giving away how interested she was.

“Did you forget who I am? As heir, I have powers of creation as well, though not nearly as strong as the creators. The largest I’ve ever made something was a coliseum, but I’ve never tried anything outlandish like… an entire planet or something.”

Suddenly, a small boy – maybe six or so years old – ran up to him. The boy tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him with wide, inquisitive brown eyes. “Is it true you use Voidfyre?” he asked. His black hair was in his eyes a little, but he did nothing to swipe the fringe out of the way.

Abaddon first adjusted the baseball cap on the boy’s head so that it was straight backwards, and then knelt next to him and said, “Yes, I am. Would you like to see?”

The boy nodded eagerly. His face was a picture of awe.

“Be careful, don’t get to close,’ Abaddon warned. Once the boy nodded again – this time in understanding – Abaddon lifted his hand and made a few flames appear on his fingertips.

“Wow…” the boy said. Once the flames were extinguished, he gave a giggle and then ran over to Hades, who smiled down at him, giving the boy a pat on the shoulder.

Then, Haetros seemed to have felt left out, because he howled again, softer this time, and lit his horn on fire. The crowd let out an expectedly long, “Oooooooo!”

“As I said earlier, this is Haetros. He is the lord of all creatures, as demonstrated earlier, but he is also my trusted companion, faithful ally, and my best friend,” Abaddon introduced, smiling down at his companion.

Haetros puffed out his chest a little in pride, making himself look a little more impressive before the purple flames died down.

 _“If you ask me, he’d just a show-off,”_ Tile hissed in the general’s ear, obviously affronted by his words. _“Why can’t you show us off? I really want to stretch my – sorry, your wings again.”_

 _“You know that I can’t let you do that, Tile. Remember what happened last time? I’d prefer that you only grace our enemies with your face, right before their deaths so that it may haunt them in the void,”_ he told him.

 _“Hey! I’m pretty! My mug is better-looking than yours, anyway! You don’t even have nice scales!”_ Tile complained.

 _“Tile, if I may, I believe that Abaddon means to keep our identity a secret in fear that Destruction of another of our enemies was to figure it out. If they did, we would be at a loss for a distinct advantage,”_ Crypt said, his voice more soothing toward the monster than Abaddon’s. Of course, Crypt had a lot more practice at how to talk to the monster than him.

The general sent him a silent flash of gratitude as Tile grumbled, falling silent.

 _“You’re not talking about me, are you?”_ Haetros suddenly sad, intruding on our conversation.

 _“No, no! Of course, not! Why would we ever do that?”_ Tile said quickly, sounding guiltier than ever, even though we hadn’t been talking about Haetros at all.

The two of them began to argue, and Abaddon left Crypt to make sure they wouldn’t try to mentally rip each other apart. His attention returned to the real world just in time to see everyone staring at him.

“Sorry about that,” he said, “I must’ve gotten lost in my thoughts. Anyway, I believe that I will turn in for the night. My soldiers and I will see you in the morning for breakfast. Remember that if you should need us, simply knock on our door.”

Then, he – closely followed by the captains – entered the newly created building. He passed the small corner kitchen and living areas, and jogged up the stairs, entering the room on the left, which had a small sign on the door which read, _“Boys”_. On the other side of the all, there was one that said, _“Girls”_ , and at the end of the hall, there was a bathroom.

Abaddon entered the room and collapsed into one of the six beds in there. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be swallowed by the darkness, drifting to sleep within seconds.


	12. Easy as a Million Monsters

“Is everyone ready to go?” I asked my troops as we stood in the living room of our cabin.

It was the morning after our arrival and I’d had a decent sleep, though it was nothing like being back home on Cofando and in my own bed. The mattress was one that I usually had on standby to be summoned from the void, so it wasn’t the waterbed that I usually relaxed on, therefore causing me to wake up with a stiff back. Also, when I’d first opened my eyes to the dawn, I panicked for a split second before realizing where I was, in which case, I groaned and rolled over, though knowing that I would have to get out of bed anyway.

All eight of the captains stared at me for a few seconds, hints of guilt still on their faces. I could see it in the way their eyes wouldn’t meet mine directly, and the slight downward curves to their lips – which they thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did. They then nodded and slipped on their masks. After pulling our hoods up as well, we left the cabin in single file.

“After breakfast, go to your stations. Remember when I told you earlier?” I said as we walked to the dining pavilion. I couldn’t see them behind me, but I knew they heard because I heard a sequence of confirmative humming. Next to me, Haetros trotted aloofly, his wings folded back – like mine – and his head held high. His ears were perked to the sounds all around, but he kept one on me, showing that he was alert to any movement I made.

I couldn’t help but smile in his direction. He seemed much more relaxed now that he knew he wouldn’t have to hide all the time.

As I walked, I focused on the sound of my even footfalls, using them to block out the loud noises of earth. However, in doing so, I failed to notice the six-year-old demigod child that was running in my direction. She didn’t seem to be paying attention either, because she ran directly into my legs, falling backward onto the grass as soon as she collided with my shins.

Immediately, I ran to her side, signalling to the others to continue to the pavilion and start with their breakfast. In the depths of my consciousness, I acknowledged that it must’ve rained during the night, or maybe it was just morning dew because the grass was glistening with tiny droplets of water. Either way, I knew that my pants were going to have wet spots, but I didn’t care as I reached down to help the girl up. Though, as I kneeled beside her, she flinched, scooting away from me frantically.

“Hush, now,” I soothed, “It’s okay. Are you hurt at all?” I tried to keep my voice low and calm to relax her nerves because I must’ve looked scary with my uniform. It was good to ward off enemies, but in situations like this, my appearance was always a problem.

She nodded jerkily, though her chest heaved in desperately quick breaths. “Here, let me see,” I said, reaching out again, though I made sure my movements were slow – even slower than before.

This time, she let me pick her up and rest her on my knee. In the back of my mind, my ADHD said, _“I feel like Santa!”_ but I forced myself to ignore both it and the laughter of the Cryptile echoing in my skull.

Instead, I concentrated on the little girl’s left leg – which she had stretched out, allowing me to see the long yet shallow cut along her shin. It didn’t seem to bad and there wasn’t much blood, but there was dirt and small bits of gravel caught in it from her fall. It would need to be cleaned straight away, lest it becomes infected.

Pulling a clean cloth from my uniform’s breast pocket, I whispered a few words to make it damp with disinfectant.

“This may sting a little,” I warned her. “Do you mind?”

She shook her head, looking up at me with the largest, most trusting eyes I’d ever seen. Taking in a sharp breath, I gently caressed the wound with the soft fabric, cleaning out most of the dirt.

She whimpered a little and dug her tiny fingers in my shirt to keep herself from moving.

Once I’d finished cleaning it, I put away the cloth, folding the blood to the inside. Then, I waved my hand over the wound, causing a warm, golden glow to envelope her leg.

Pulling my hand away, I revealed her leg once more. The cut had cleaned itself and then vanished, leaving nothing but smooth skin once more. The girl, entranced, tested her leg out, bending it. She stood, hopped twice, and then turned to me with the largest grin I’d ever seen. She jumped at me, wrapping her frail arms around my neck.

“Thank you, mister!”

As she pulled away, I smiled back at her. “What is your name, little one?” I asked gently.

Twirling her toe in the sand, she looked up at me with a soft bluish spreading across her cheeks. “My name is Rosie,” she said shyly, ducking her head slightly to avoid my eyes.

I put my finger under to chin, lifting her face so that our eyes met. “It is very nice to meet you, Rosie,” I said with sincerity. “I’m Abaddon, and…hmm…let me guess; you’re a daughter of Demeter, aren’t you?” A playful tone entered my voice as I guessed, letting my teeth show in a smile.

She did indeed look like a daughter of Demeter, what, with her long, wheat-brown hair, earthy brown eyes and the splash of freckles across her cheeks. She smiled again, showing off where one of her two incisors had come out, yet to be replaced. Nodding, she said, “Yup! My mom is great!” Then, she became shy again. “Can I feel your wing?” she asked.

I chuckled. “Sure thing, kiddo,” I replied. Stretching my wing, I held it out for her to touch. A few seconds later, a strange sensation came over me as her small fingers curled themselves around my feathers. It tickled, sending shivers down my spine.

Rosie giggled as she weaved her fingers through the soft down and overlapping flight feathers. “It’s so soft!” she exclaimed.

I smiled down at her excited little face. Plucking a semi plume from my wing, I tickled her nose with it playfully. She giggled, causing her whole body to spasm with laughter as she swatted at the feather. The feather weaved easily into her hair as I placed it there, tucked right behind her left ear. Rosie smiled, touching the feather lightly before giving me a big hug and skipping off to find her siblings.

When I looked up, I saw that everyone who’d passed had stopped to stare at us. As I looked, they all turned away awkwardly; they must’ve been embarrassed to have been caught in the act.

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

Once again, the night had come and gone, and I let my brother take over once more to ride his chariot across the sky. Of course, he lit up his Maserati Spyder Cambio Corsa in the most unnecessary of ways as he always did, and took off, bringing the light of the sun with him.

I had to admit that when we first got our duties as god and goddess of the sun and moon, I was glad to have the moon, because that meant, that on mornings like this, I could have breakfast with my hunters just like every other god or goddess with their children. Whenever we came to camp, I saw them with the demigods and felt regret that I didn’t have children of my own, but relief as well. After what my mother went through, I was glad to never have that in my life, but it didn’t mean that I didn’t want them after they left the stage of mess. With my hunters, I could have that.

We were walking towards the dining pavilion when I saw him. Abaddon. Yesterday, I’d studied him thoroughly, and he didn’t seem like much on the surface, but I knew that, underneath, he was dangerous. He must be, to be crowned prince of the first planet and heir to the entire universe.

Today, however, he did not show those qualities. When I caught sight of him, he was kneeling in the wet grass, uncaring about the stains he would have on his pants as he held a small child on his knee, smiling down at her with gleaming teeth.

I immediately froze. The way he was interacting with the daughter of Demeter – Rosie, I believe her name was – it was almost like how I remembered Percy with the younger campers – back when he was alive, at least.

Percy had always been so caring; even when he didn’t know the child, he’d help where he could, and where he couldn’t…he’d make sure that something got done. As the general of the eternal army tickled the six-year-old’s nose with one of his feathers – plucked from his own wing! – I couldn’t help but think of the son of Poseidon, and my heart clenched.

 _“Oh, Percy… Why did you have to leave us? How could we have let you go?”_ I thought longingly. He was the only male that I ever approved of. Percy had gained the friendship and respect of my hunters, and after them, myself. I’d even begun to feel my heart beat a little faster at the very mention of his name, which is why, before he died, I had distanced myself from him.

That was a big mistake.

I left, and then he’d gone and gotten himself killed, and for what? To protect us? We didn’t deserve him after what we did, and even though I hadn’t been directly responsible, I felt the weight of guilt on my shoulders as well. And to top it all off, I hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to him after he left, because his body was gone. It had vanished from existence, and no one knew where it went.

I sighed. I just wish that I could’ve said goodbye to him. Maybe…I could’ve told him how I felt, but I couldn’t. he was dead, and on top of that, I was, and still am, a maiden goddess. I swore an oath against men. I’d even convinced my father to swear on the River Styx that he would not force me to marry, and I’d kept him to that ever since that day. It was one of the oaths on the Styx that he’d never broken – probably the only one, if I really thought about it.

Thinking back to that first night on the cliff, I realized that I’d known he was different all along. He was so worried about that other demigod – the girl, Annabeth – that he wasn’t focused on anything else. He’d even been willing to jump off the cliff after her. And it wasn’t just that. There was just… _something_ about him that was different from any other man I’d ever met. After that night, Perseus snuck out of camp, breaking almost every rule imaginable just to join an impossible quest to save his friends, and later, he’d taken the sky from me. He’d taken my burden because he knew that his strength wouldn’t be enough, and he admitted to that. That was when I realized that his humility and bravery had no bounds.

As I reflected upon my long life, I knew that I had never loved anyone as much as I loved Percy. He was loyal, respectful, and kind, unlike any man that I’d ever come across. The days after I’d met him were the happiest that I’d ever had, just being able to think about him as I spent time with my hunters, knowing that he was out there and willing to put his life on the line to save us. Just…I’d never thought it would come to that.

Mentally shaking myself out of my reverie, I suddenly felt the hand on my shoulder, shaking me back to reality. Through the foggy haze of my thoughts, I turned to see Thalia standing next to me, a look of concern on her face. I knew that I had to suppress my feelings for the son of Poseidon once more, as they had just bubbled to the surface of my mind.

Turning away from Abaddon, I shut the door to that section of my life and blocked the messages my heart was sending to my brain. I could not allow this…stranger… to reignite my old feelings for a long-dead boy. Unfortunately for me, it was too late.

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

As I watched Rosie run off to show her brothers and sisters the feather that I’d tucked in her hair, I felt the eyes of everyone around me. It made my skin crawl, like millions of little bugs had swarmed over me – and believe me, that wasn’t a good feeling; it has happened before on a mission.

The eyes followed me as I entered the dining pavilion, taking the first steps onto the polished marble since before I’d died. It wasn’t even old-looking, like everything else here. Had it truly only been five years for them since I’d left?

I sat down at the table that the captains had claimed for themselves, but the eyes didn’t leave. _“What are they all staring at?”_ I asked, feeling confusion run through me in waves.

 _“You,”_ Tile replied in a whisper, though he was in my head. Why was he even whispering? Only Crypt, Haetros, and I could hear him anyway.

 _“Well, duh,”_ I replied, _“What I mean is: why?”_

 _“Maybe you remind them of yourself from before you died,”_ Crypt suggested. _“We’ve heard the stories; you’ve told us all about the little campers that you used to love taking care of and training.”_

Shrugging, I figured he was right. I _had_ been known for training the younger campers when they first arrived at camp. I didn’t know why, but they always said that they felt safe around me, so I’d attracted them like a magnet.

 _“Anyway, it’s time for breakfast,”_ I told them as I focused on the plate in front of me. It was empty, but not for long. With a wave of my hand, it was suddenly overflowing with pancakes. On the side, a bottle of maple syrup appeared. Then, the bottle was doused over my pancakes until they were drowning, almost bowing under the weight of the sweet, liquid sugar.

Of course, since we weren’t back on Cofando, I had to be very careful about not making my food blue as it always was. Unfortunately, I hadn’t done the same for my drink, and just my luck, Nico walked by right as my goblet filled itself with cobalt blue coca-cola.

“W-what is that?” he stuttered, staring at my goblet with wide, frightened eyes.

I turned to face my friend. The last five years had really done wonders for him. He was less thin now, and his complexion had almost returned to its original olive tone. He was also hanging off Will’s arm, which caused a smile to alight on my lips.

Then, realizing that I had to come up with an excuse as to why my drink was blue, I managed to say, “It’s a traditional drink from my home planet, Cofando. It’s a biettus smoothie, and if you’re wondering why it’s blue, its because that’s what colour biettus berries are.” At least it was the truth. Biettus berries _were_ used to make smoothies – very delicious smoothies, in fact – they just weren’t as blue as my Coke.

Nico seemed to deflate against Will’s arm as the hope left his eyes. “Oh,” he said, “Okay. Sorry. It’s just…blue was Percy’s favourite colour. I bet he would’ve liked that…by-eh-toos…drink of yours.”

I nearly smiled as he tried to pronounce biettus by sounding it out. He was such a foreigner.

Nico sighed once more and walked away with Will, sitting at the Hades table where Hades hugged him from one side and Will hugged him from the other. Catching a peek at Seraphina, I saw her eyes watch her brother longingly, and knew that she wanted to go to him, but knew she couldn’t.

At first, I found it a little strange to see Hades at his own table, but as I looked around, I saw that every god or goddess was sitting at his or her own table with the demigods. They each had at least a camper or two with them, or, like Hermes, Aphrodite, Athena, and Apollo had about a dozen. Even Hera was there, though she was sitting with Zeus at his table, making small talk with Jason, but glaring at the one other child at the table, who looked to be around four or five years old.

Then, my eyes came to rest on the Poseidon table. It was empty, both campers and the gods himself, reminding me once again about his current state. _“Maybe I should visit him,”_ I thought.

 _“I think it would be prudent to our mission, as we are meant to protect every one of the gods, including your father,”_ Crypt said in my ear.

 _“Former father,”_ I corrected. _“He disowned me, remember? No amount of guilt will take that back. I don’t have powers from him anymore, therefore, I don’t share his blood.”_

_“That doesn’t matter, Perseus. He’s still your father, and now, he needs you more than ever. Just go through with it and go to him. Reveal yourself to all of them and let them heal. Maybe then, you will be able to finally get over what happened.”_

I shrugged subtly, enough for Crypt to know but not enough so that it was visible to anyone in the physical world. I knew that I’d have to do something, and fast, lest he’d fade forever, but I still remembered the pinch in my heart when he’d disowned me. I’d never heard of gods disowning their children before; I must’ve been the first. Though, even if I hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have prepared me for the sensation of it. It was almost like my heart had been forcefully ripped from my chest, both emotionally and physically, blood and everything, though there was none. And afterward, it was almost like it had been, because all I felt was an empty hole in my chest where it used to beat.

Just then, I heard a scream which shook me out of my depressing thoughts. The conch horn blew three times repeatedly, signalling an attack at the border.

“Monster attack!” someone yelled.

I nearly sighed. As if it wasn’t obvious. Did they still have to yell? I mean, at least the monsters no longer had the element of surprise, seeing as we’d just gotten three different warnings in the same, one-minute span.

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

As soon as the scream ripped through the air, I was on my feet. Then, the conch horn sounded, and I was sure of what it meant, even before Grace, a daughter of Aphrodite, yelled, “Monster attack!”

Running to the top of the hill, I stopped, closely followed by my hunters. Luckily, when we’d rebuilt the demigod camp, the architects put the dining pavilion right next to Half-blood Hill so that if an attack ever happened during mealtimes, we’d be close enough to fight within seconds.

As I reached the peak of the hill, my heart nearly stopped in my chest. Then, it fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings, panicked in the cage of my ribs, because there, over the horizon, was an army of monsters. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of adversaries marched down the lonely farm street towards our home, which was protected only by the Golden Fleece and its guardian, Peleus.

No one moved.

I turned, seeing the wide, fearful looks in everyone’s eyes before I noticed that there were some people missing. The warriors of the eternal army were nowhere to be seen. What?

Spinning around, I saw them walking lazily away from the dining pavilion and moseying their way up the hill, chatting. What were they doing? Were they _trying_ to get us killed?

Just then, I was able to make out part of what they were saying as they came within hearing distance.

“-want to deal with this?” Abaddon was saying.

“Um…” another soldier – Proteus, I think – said, “Nah. Can’t you just snap your fingers and make them all go, poof?”

“Indeed,” Hester – the archer – agreed. “I just ate a big breakfast. Go ahead. Blow them up.”

As soon as I heard that, my eyes widened. Abaddon could do that. Just how powerful was he? What else could he do? And…what would happen to us if he turned out to be the enemy? My thoughts were racing through my brain, just slow enough for my stream of consciousness to keep up. Looking around, I saw that the others at my side seemed to be in similar positions.

I didn’t have a chance to even open my mouth to ask what they were talking about before Abaddon spoke again.

“No,” he said, “I think I’d like to actually defeat them myself. Give me a moment.”

Seconds later, he drew his sword with a soft _schink_ , and he became a blur of movement.

He fought like a hurricane, so fast that my eyes couldn’t even keep up with his steps as he demolished the enemy troops with ease. It almost seemed as if there were dozens of him, all in different places, fighting the army on the other side of the hill, but I knew that there was only one of him – just moving really fast.

Later, I’d only discover that it took him a little less than three whole minutes to defeat all those monsters. I was too stunned when he stopped moving and the army was just…gone. Abaddon stood there, in a literal sea of monster dust, not even breathing heavily.

“Was that Destruction’s attempt at a first attack? I’m disappointed,” he said; his mouth was curved into a deep frown, lips thin with frustration – almost like he’d just warmed up and was now looking for an encore.

I couldn’t believe him, though. He was ankle-deep in golden powder, and he expected more to just show up! Most likely, his idea of fun would be to jump into Tartarus and turned all the monsters into cocoons for the next century or two!

Looking up at us, Abaddon’s frown turned to an oval as his jaw dropped. Why was _he_ shocked? _He_ was the one who had just taken out that whole army! My question was soon answered, however, as he said, very seriously, “What? Did I get monster guts on my face?” like _we_ were the weird ones.


	13. An Idiot's Challenge

In hindsight, I should have just beaten the army of monsters regularly. It would’ve been an excellent idea, in the face of the consequences showing off did for me. Firstly, my power – this power that I used – could only be used at certain times. In between fights when I used it, I had to…recharge, I guess. I don’t know the proper word for it, but like exercising, you never work the same muscle twice in a row. For me, that rule was quite literal.

The second reason – and much more relevant – the campers wouldn’t leave me alone. After the fight, I was followed by herds and herds of campers; seriously, they were sheep. No wonder they abandoned me before I died. I forgave them back then, of course, _because_ they were just sheep. They followed the leader. It was a strength, but also a weakness.

In the training arena, I faced my warriors, going easy on them so that they could slowly improve, and my audience watched, entranced. Finally, I’d had enough and left, heading back to my haven – my cabin. No prying eyes could follow me there, but I couldn’t hide out forever. I shut myself in with the curtains around my bed, laying on my side with my eyes closed.

Just as the quiet was about to lull me to sleep, the cabin door slammed open and a loud voice broke the silence. Three of the warriors stood, discussing training exercises and battle tactics, but the words all blurred into one as I stood from my bed, threw back the curtains, and left the cabin. They seemed surprised, but I didn’t stop to think that maybe I’d stormed passed them a bit too quickly. All I wanted to do was escape, so I ran to the forest.

Deep in the cluster of tall, dark, trees, I found my peace. I sat on a felled tree, one that had been there so long it was half buried in soil and growing a soft carpet of moss across its once stiff bark. My breath came slowly, filling my chest. I could feel every movement of my torso as the air moved in and out of my lungs, bringing much-needed oxygen into my system.

I was so focused that I didn’t realise that someone had sat next to me until I felt delicate fingers come to rest on my shoulder. Jumping slightly in shock, my eyes flew open and I turned my body slightly, on edge.

“Sorry for startling you,” a gentle voice said.

It was a voice that I recognized well, and even without seeing her auburn hair or beautiful silver eyes in the waning light of the sun above, I knew it was her. Artemis.

“No,” my mouth opened without my permission, “It’s quite alright.”

Artemis’ lips stretched into a relieved grin, and I couldn’t bring myself to take back my words and tell her to leave. She relaxed next to me on the log, having tensed when I did. Maybe she was expecting an attack. I couldn’t blame her; these were difficult times.

“Why are you out here?” I asked, and I felt my eyebrows close together to express my confusion. She was a goddess of the wild, but how could she have found me in all of the dark forest?

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, her eyes glinting with amusement.

I sighed, knowing that I’d have to answer if I wanted her to speak. “I just wanted to get away from it all,” I found myself admitting. The genuine honesty in my voice surprised me. Why was I opening my heart to her? “After the fight this morning, I guess it felt strange to see everyone gawking wherever I went.” I didn’t look at her as I spoke, just kept my gaze focused ahead into the shadows of the ever-darkening wood.

“I can understand that,” Artemis whispered. Looking at her, I saw that she, to, was looking into the middle distance, as if reminiscing in times long passed.

“How so?”

“Well, being a goddess is always a part of it. I have the hunters, and they are as close as sisters, but sometimes it becomes very clear to me that we are different. I am an outlier, even in the family that I’ve made, and no matter what I do, I will always be different.”

“What about the other Olympians? Surely your immortal family is welcoming. And your brother?”

“Apollo is… well, he’s always busy with women. He embodies the very type of man that I hate, and so when he does show up, all he ends up doing is annoying me. The others, too, are different, with their own responsibilities. They don’t have time to meet with me. Why would they? I have my hunters, and they think that I have everything that I could want. I’m Zeus’ spoiled child, after all. Everything I want from him, anything I’ve ever wanted, he’s given to me. It sounds selfish, I know, but sometimes it seems that the only thing I’ve ever wanted, I can’t have, so I try to fill the void with so many other things, I just end up pushing people away.” Artemis let out a breathy chuckle. She turned to me. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I came to find out why you’re out here, and now I’m just talking about myself.” Closing her eyes, she leaned back a little.

Careful not to overstep my position, I placed an assuring hand on hers. “I don’t mind.”

She looked at me again, then turned her gaze back out into the distant darkness. “You’re a good listener,” she said quietly. Then, as an afterthought: “Percy was, too.”

I startled and pulled my hand away immediately. Why would she mention me? Well, not _me_ , me, but the past me? I had to stop. She couldn’t know my identity, or everything would be ruined! I pulled away, scooting at least a foot over on the log.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I replied, standing. Turning my face to the sky, for the sole reason so that I wouldn’t have to look her in the eye, I said, “We’d better get back. It’s almost time for the campfire.” Then I began to walk back to camp, toward the amphitheatre.

* * *

With a deep groan, I let my head fall into my hands, trying to block out the sound. I kind of wanted to go back to the forest to brood, but we were at the campfire, so I couldn’t just sneak out unnoticed, especially, since my blasted warriors forced me to sit with them, right in the front row. The noise, unlike a typical campfire at Camp Half-Blood, where everyone was singing cheerfully or laughing amongst themselves, was instead made by a boisterous argument. The sound was only growing as everyone shouted, yelling over each other to make their words heard, but amidst the garbled mess, no one was heard anyway. It was enough to drive anyone insane, and I could barely stand it!

Finally, I felt like doing something about it. Nothing would be solved this way. Standing, I took a deep breath and let out a loud shout of “QUIET!” At the same time, Haetros howled, making the fire grow exponentially, the blazing red flames spewing high into the night sky.

Everyone froze. The noise stopped.

“There is no reason for you to be debating this. I think we can safely say that the reason the monsters bypassed your oh-so-powerful barrier was because our enemy, Destruction, is much stronger than anyone else you have faced. He was behind the attack, that much is obvious, so we must be prepared, as his forces will easily be able to invade. No offence,” I said.

“None taken!” A voice from the hunters called. The voice brought a smile to my face because I could immediately tell that it was Thalia, trying to brighten the mood, despite my bashing of her tree and the barrier she’d unknowingly made to protect the camp.

“This means that you can no longer rely on the barrier to protect you. Therefore, we’ll need to set up a patrol along the border. My soldiers will do well to cover the shifts, but some volunteers will be needed from your ranks. Who is willing to volunteer?”

Luckily, quite a few hands shot up. I was mostly able to pick out Ares’ and Mars’ children, along with several from the other cabins as well. That’s good. When I was at camp as Percy, I wouldn’t have guessed that anyone would volunteer. It was like pulling teeth, almost. Maybe…just maybe, not only the gods have changed.

My moment of happiness was ruined, yet again. Squashed, by one person, and one person only. Holding back a sigh, I braced myself for him to open his stupid mouth. Yes, it was Damian Parker, and he had something else to say. Apparently, humiliating once wasn’t enough, because he was coming back for more.

He sauntered forward and sneered, showing off his crooked teeth. Haetros growled from his position at my side, and I felt a growl of my own begin, which surprised me. I barely held it back and put my concern to the back of my mind, hoping to talk to Tile about it later.

Just when I thought that it couldn’t get any worse, Damian opened his mouth and began to speak:

“You can’t tell us what to do, I should be! I’m so much better than you anyway, I should be calling the shots! I bet you’re just like Jackson; he was a weakling, too, who thought he could just start giving orders.”

I tensed, feeling every muscle in my body grow stiff. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end, as if even they were brimming with the deep, raging anger I felt for Damian. I knew that the soldiers must be curious as to what happened when I’d last been at camp, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them. I never had, in all my years in the eternal army. Unfortunately, it seemed as if Damian wasn’t going to give me that choice any longer.

Damian just didn’t know when to quit. He continued, “He was such a spoiled brat. I can’t believe they thought he was a hero. But I changed that. I saw what he had and decided that it was better for me, so I took it.” He paused. “Well, I didn’t even have to take it; it was all given to me. Only fair, since I’m better than that crybaby. Seriously, he just ran away, then went and died.”

That was it. If Damian wanted to keep running his mouth, I was going to do something about it. Looking around, I was surprised to see that everyone else around us looked like they wanted to attack him as well, but I knew that no one could do anything. The gods had sworn to change, and if anyone were to attack their own, it would send them all back so many years of progress. That was okay. I was willing to sacrifice my heart for them to grow. Damian was the problem, and I should be the one to deal with it, not them. Though, it did touch my heart that they still cared enough to look at him with such hate and not bend to his opinions about me.

“But then that doofus had to go all like _oh, I’ll just defeat some titans and die because I’m a weepy little kid. Maybe that’ll ruin their lives!_ Argh! He destroyed my life! It was perfect and then he took everything from me!” Then, Damian pulled himself together, on the verge of throwing a tantrum. I almost lost it then; how dare he say that? He had no right to complain! I could almost feel steam coming out of my ears.

Then, Damian smirked. “I bet you’re just like him. I could beat you in a fight any day. Come on, fight me! When I win, I wanna be made Prince of the Universe!”

I sneered, feeling my face pinch up in disgust. “Why would I agree to that? That deal is so one-sided, and you aren’t even worthy to fight me for such a prize. Deflate your ego a little, and maybe I’ll consider a duel,” I replied swiftly, turning away from him.

That was a mistake.

Just as my eyes left the horrid boy, I heard whistling. No, not someone whistling. Something was coming toward me. On instinct, I spun around, slipping one of my many knives from its sheath and throwing it. The blade split Damian’s knife in two cleanly, sending them both to the dirt, still connected.

Turning back toward Damian, I grit my teeth. “Okay, then. If that is the way you want to play, I will duel you. A professional duel. I expect you to follow the ways and traditions of Cofando. After all, a prince must know his own laws and responsibilities,” I said mockingly. “Tomorrow morning in the arena, we duel at seven o’clock sharp. Pleasant dreams tonight.”

Then, I turned to my warriors, who were to my left. “Choose a pair of campers to patrol with you and take turns tonight and throughout the next few days. We spoke about the positions last night, so I expect you to know your roles.” My order was delivered with the same authority as I always had, and I doubted that my warriors could tell the difference, but I definitely heard the tremble in my own voice.

Despite the tremor, my warriors nodded and left, making their way through the crowd as they went and each picking out some of the campers who’d raised their hands before. They were gone without another word.

Once they disappeared into the darkness beyond the campfire’s circle, I addressed everyone. “For those of you who wish to witness our duel, I will see you tomorrow at seven o’clock sharp. Trust me, you’ll not want to miss this.” Though they couldn't see my face, I was sure they could tell I was smirking widely.


	14. Damian - Sink or Swim?

I woke early the next morning, my internal clock sending me out of my bed at five-thirty. Upon eating a quick breakfast and then showering and dressing in the formal duel garb of Cofando, I left the cabin at six-fifteen, heading to the arena to prepare. I even sent a set of clothes to Damian's cabin, instructing him to wear it for the duel. I doubted he would, but at least I could use it to teach him a lesson.

Once I stepped foot in the arena, I drew my sword and swung it in the air as the start of my pre-duel ritual. I was to perform a dance of the blade, my sword curving beautifully in the air for all to see. I waited approximately fifteen minutes for the first camper to arrive, and pretty soon, the rest of them had begun filing into the stands and taking their seats.

We waited.

The clock struck seven.

Damian had yet to show up.

I sighed. Typical. When he _does_ show up, and he will, eventually, he'll think that he's fashionably late and won't care too much about it. He won't be wearing the traditional clothes, because, even if he did try them on, he wouldn't like the style, and just show up in jeans or something similar.

Five minutes later, he sauntered in casually, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, just as I'd predicted.

"Damian!" I shouted, like my instructor back when I first became the prince, "The first rule of being a prince is that you can never be late!"

He shrugged, giving me a foul look. "Whatever. When I take your title, I'll just change the stupid rules, so they fit my needs. That way, I can be late all I want."

I groaned internally. "If you say so. Now, to start a traditional duel on Cofando, both participants must follow these specifications. One, you may only use one weapon of choice. All other weapons will be removed and stored elsewhere," I explained.

Damian didn't move, so I continued, "As you can see, I have already removed all of mine." I gestured over to where Seraphina was in the stands. She was sitting next to a large, neat alignment of weapons. It would've taken fifteen minutes at least to remove all my weapons, so I did so beforehand. With her help, of course.

"Next specification," I said, "Male participants must fight bare-chested. This is a tradition that goes back millennia because it leads into the next part- the test of purity." With that, I removed my cloak and shirt - though I was careful to leave my mask on - and handed the garb to Seraphina. I sent her a small smile of thanks as she did so.

Damian removed his shirt as well, but he seemed more uncomfortable than I did, probably because he had stomach flab whereas my chest was muscled from years of training and marred by the wounds of particularly nasty battles.

 _'Gods_ ,' I thought, ' _So many of the girls are drooling. Why? This never happens on Cofando when I duel. Are there guys staring as well? What?'_ I tried to ignore it.

 _"You're just popular,"_ Crypt told me.

 _"Yeah, let the kids have their fun. Not every day would they see someone which such delicious muscles,"_ Tile added. He had a point. I mean, Damian didn't exactly have a six-pack. Or a four-pack. He didn't even have a pack. Maybe a fanny pack.

Then, I realized just exactly what Tile said.

 _"You're weird,"_ I replied, _"And I don't think you and the campers are thinking the same thing."_

_"Not my problem that I'm a carnivore! If we weren't connected, I would seriously consider eating you for lunch! You have so much tender, dark meat on you!"_

I shook myself out of that conversation to continue explaining things to Damian. "The test of purity is a tradition not seen by many. Only those with pure hearts and minds will be able to witness what we are about to do." I smiled behind my mask. "Now, Damian, copy my stance," I commanded. I spread my feet shoulder-width apart and let my arms hang afloat in the air. Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes.

Proteus came forward to chant for our test. Five seconds in and my body began to glow. I could feel it. The great warmth filled my chest first, then spread throughout my body. Damian must've begun to glow as well because I heard him give a sharp gasp of shock before he fell silent again. Bringing my head forward, I opened my eyes to look at him.

"You can look now, Damian," I said.

He peeked out of one eye.

We were both glowing with white light, but as soon as we met eyes, our lights changed. My entire body darkened to black, except my heart. My heart remained white and unmarred by the darkness surrounding me and glowed a brilliant white in contrast. My hands, as well, were a different colour. They shone deep, blood red, but on my palms were stars of white.

I had killed, yes, but I killed with purpose. I killed to protect others.

Refocusing my eyes on Damian, I almost broke my stance at the alarming sight of his heart, openly displayed on his body.

His hands were stained, as mine were, but there was no white light in sight. The red snaked up his arms, like creeping vines wrapping around his shoulders. The red then melted into a muddy grey colour.

I nearly let out a sigh; his soul was a devastating sight. Truly.

The onlookers were in awe. At least, the ones who could see what was happening. Most of them could, which was a good sign, but some of them – blind followers of Damian and his ways, small as they were in numbers – could not.

Slowly, the glows faded from our bodies and I prepared myself for the fight to begin. "Now, we duel," I said. "No powers. Maiming is allowed. Killing is allowed, too, but is frowned upon and only used in barbaric times. It only ends when one of us surrenders or loses consciousness."

Damian took his stance as well, and I almost cringed. Who even taught this boy how to stand? His feet were too close together. His toes were even turned in! How does he keep his balance? Damian wobbled, and I held myself back from sighing, Oh, he doesn't.

Drawing my sword, I levelled my eyes with his. "It seems that we both have blood on our hands. I wonder...which one of us will add a little more?" I asked casually.

The horn was blown, and our duel commenced.

Calmly, I walked towards him. "Being a prince means that you must be the best. You must be able to protect your people from harm. With that in mind, I have trained day and night by Lord Chaos and Lady Order themselves, so that I could master every method of the sword. I have spent centuries honing my skills under their guidance and tutoring. Every style is now mine to command, all from right here," I tapped my temple.

Then, I leapt into action, jabbing my sword at him with one hand and then jumping back into position in front of him. In a fluid movement, I wrapped both hands around the base of my sword and brought it down in front of me, the blade stopping right above his shoulder. I'd purposefully not hit him, though that didn't stop the flinch that ran through his body.

"And, of course, with the knowledge of all these different styles, I have been able to come up with my very own rhythm in swordplay. Hundreds of combinations that have never failed me in a battle against my opponents."

Gliding around him, I kept both hands of my sword, spinning and striking at his upper body, only to pause and keep the blade from touching him. I dance around Damian, demonstrating many other techniques that I'd picked up over the years, while he remained untouched due to my last-minute pull-back.

Finally, I decided that it was enough playing around, and appeared in front of him, swinging the sword around and smacking him in the chest with the butt of the hilt. He fell back into the dirt.

"I have worked for my title, and you do not deserve to even fight me for it, but I allowed that. You do not have what it takes to be a leader, much less a prince." I couldn't help it – I sneered at him. Hate broiled up in my chest, all aimed at one person, but I managed to push it down, settling for a cruel tone instead of taking him apart. I didn't. Of course, I have a sharp blade in my hand.

Placing my blade at his throat, I snarled. "Do you surrender?"

He nodded quickly, which was stupid because he almost took his own head off on my sword.

"Then I have won this duel. Good day to you." I withdrew my sword and sheathed it, giving him a curt bow and turning to retrieve my gear from Seraphina. It was just then that I sensed it. Something was coming toward me. With a quick glance up, I could see the campers in the stands looking at something behind me, wide-eyed, and I spun around just in time, drawing my sword to deflect a knife.

It fell to the ground, motionless.

Damian just didn't know when to give up, did he?

Wait. What was that? I looked closer at the knife, picking it up from the ground. There was poison coating the blade. Damian had tried to kill me. With an angered grunt, I threw the knife down again, though this time, the blade was buried deep into the earth.

Then, I spun around, ready to face him: my attempted murderer. He was standing again, though he was frozen in shock. He unfroze, soon after, and began walking toward me, but much to my surprise, someone stepped between us.

"Stop being mean to my friend!"

It was Rosie. My heart swelled with pride as she raised herself to full height, arms spread and ready to protect me.

Damian, however, sneered. "Get out of my way!" he snarled. Once he was in front of her, he shoved her down. She landed in the dirt with a thud and cried out, but – to her credit – didn't burst out crying from the obvious future bruises.

That sparked a chain reaction.

I leapt forward, over her and tackled Damian to the ground. Flipping him over, I held his face to the ground and pushed his arm up his back, hand between his shoulder blades. During this, my wings had snapped open, alight with dancing flames of red, blue, white, and black.

Everyone jumped back to avoid the heat.

I leaned down, snarling in Damian's ear. "If you _ever_ touch her again, I swear..." My threat trailed off. I didn't even have to finish; he got the idea.

He shivered as I stood, releasing him and regaining control over my emotions. Then, I rushed to Rosie's side and lifted her into a sitting position on my leg, gently running my hands over her legs to heal the quickly forming welts. After they were all healed, she looked okay, but I double-checked, just to be sure.

"Are you alright, Rosie?" I asked gently, my voice laced with concern.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed tight, giving me a big hug. "Thanks for saving me," she whispered in my ear. She buried her nose into my shoulder, snuggling closer.

"That was very brave of you, Rosie," I told her, and felt her lips curve into a grin against my neck. "No one has ever stood up for me like that before, so...thank you."

Rosie pulled away with a Cheshire grin on her face. We both stood, and I took her hand, leading her over to where her mother and siblings stood on the sidelines. Demeter herself came forward and, once we reached her, took out a random box of cereal, handing it to me for my efforts.

I heard some chuckles from the audience, but then, my attention was drawn elsewhere.

 _"What?"_ Tile asked in my head. He brought our eyes down to the cereal in my hand, leering internally. _"What's with this?"_

 _"Demeter is obsessed with cereal,"_ I explained. It was true; she was, but seriously? Where did she even get it from?

Ignoring it, I accepted the cereal and left Rosie with her family, then returned to my own, ready to accompany my warriors to breakfast.


	15. Lean on Me

By the time everyone was ready to actually walk to the Pavilion, I’d lost my appetite. Seriously, whoever decided that one needs to polish their eyebrows for ten minutes before eating breakfast? Luke Castellan, that’s who!

Anyway, I instead left to check the border, too tired – despite the early hour – to deal with his usual antics. Good thing I wasn’t feeling very hungry anyway. Maybe I’d sneak a muffin or a bagel later. Also, the cereal. I could eat that.

After lapping the entirety of the camp three times, I figured breakfast would be over, so I wouldn’t have to worry about avoiding passing the Dining Pavilion. Unfortunately, I wanted to head back to the cabin, and I’d run into my teammates there.

_“Didn’t think of that one, did you?”_

I ignored him. There was some business I had to take care of, so I couldn’t _not_ do it. The grass fell easily under my boots on the way over, seeing as there was no well-worn path. The cabin was fairly easy to spot, even from the depths of the forest – a fair warning to any monster, as its appearance and aura were intimidating. The cabin promised the demise of all those with malevolent intent.

With a quick nod to the others, I entered and strode into my private quarters, closing and locking the door behind me. Personal stuff is personal. If something happened, the others could take care of it. Sitting on the bed, I removed my mask, hanging it on the hook. My face was stiff, and I opened my mouth wide, squeezing my eyes shut to stretch it.

 _“I’m so glad Chaos and Order made the mask ‘sweatless’ or whatever they want to call it,”_ Crypt said softly.

 _“You don’t even have to wear the mask!”_ I replied, utterly confused as to the point of his comment.

 _“Hey! We can still feel everything you do! Well, unless we’re off in our own world, of course – but most of the time, existing is existing! We are you, just not in control. It sucks,”_ Tile protested.

 _“No privacy, huh? Well, maybe you shouldn’t have bonded with me in the first place!”_ I shouted back. For some reason, my body felt the need to stand to have this argument, even though it was in my head. It’s probably one of those things where you have to look angry to be able to _be_ angry. _“And for that matter, stop complaining! You_ do _have control. Like, whenever you damn well feel like it!”_

 _“Ha, ha… Dam!”_ Tile chuckled.

I sighed, smacking myself in the face with some small hope that he’d feel it. “I should’ve never told you about that…” I whispered aloud to the empty room. Deciding that it was better to ignore them – well, mostly Tile and his terrible jokes – I crossed the room and opened the bottom-most drawer of my wardrobe. Sadly, Chaos would not allow me to put a portal in the back of it, no matter how many times I asked, so I was stuck making tiny portals in the drawers, which would only activate when _I_ was the one opening them. Take what you can get, right?

My hands briefly disappeared into the black emptiness and returned clasping a small wooden box. It was somewhat reminiscent of a treasure chest due to my sentimental ideals – as well as my childhood fantasy of being a pirate, but really what child doesn’t want to be a pirate at one point or another? – and what was within reflected that. It was my real treasure, no, not old or jewels, or even an old map, yellowed by time and faded in the light.

Unclasping the brass lock, I lifted the lid. Inside was a stack of photos. Just photos. None-moving, beautiful, wonderful memories for those times that my mind was too full to be filled with. They contained locked pieces of happiness from those days I spent with my parents.

There was one I lifted to examine: my mother in her new red, white and blue _Sweet on America_ outfit, a bag full of blue candy in her hands. She looked so proud of herself because I’d been able to sneak the picture while Gabe was in the background, watching TV with his usual sneer, oblivious to all but the glaring square of light.

Grief wrapped around my heart in an unyielding fist. I wanted to see my mother again. Like, _really_ wanted to. Unshed tears hugged close to my eyes like climbers, fearful of the descent but were equally ready to take the leap down the cliffside of my face and freefall to the padded carpet beneath my feet.

I kept shuffling and reshuffling the pictures between my fingers. I’d seen them thousands of time, and I knew that all I was doing was wearing them out, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was like my whole life flashing before my eyes – quite literally in this case – and it all ended that one day.

Finally, what got me to stop wasn’t the usual. It was a hand on my arm and my opposite shoulder. It was the weight of a body sitting down on the bed next to me, silent as a mouse, but very noticeable in presence. I felt the softness of a handkerchief pressed against my cheek, the fabric saving some of my more suicidal tears for the long drop to the floor.

I looked up.

It was Hester.

“How-how d-d-did you get in h-here? It was l-locked.”

She smiled but didn’t say anything, to my question nor my sob-induced hiccoughing.

“Shhh,” she said instead, wrapping her arms around me. Zoë has perfectly slipped into eh Big Sister role of our group. She had to, of course, as the boys were big crybabies underneath – myself included – though we tried not to show it, and of course there was her part to play in the hunters when she was still alive. The first time, of course. She’s alive now, too, but this is a different _alive_.

“Zoë…I miss them,” I told her, mournful cries breaking up my words, “I miss them so much! I just… I just… can’t let it go! I want to let it go! Let them go! I want to let them have a peaceful afterlife! Mourning them this way only pulls their spirits away from Elysium. I need to accept it, but I can’t! It’s been _years_! _Centuries_! But I _can’t_!”

I felt weak, saying this to her – pouring my heart out, but this was _Zoë_ , so I felt the need to. She was always the best at comforting people, and though she wasn’t the person I really needed, deep down, she was still one of the people I knew I could rely on for when I broke down lie this.

Once I had cried and cried until no more tears would come, I spoke. “I think it’s time you and the others know what happened before my death,” I said to her. My voice was cracking with raw emotion, no more or less than before I’d begun my sobbing, but this time, with purpose, determination in my words.

She nodded, and, as if waiting for this, whistled. The door opened – despite being _locked_! – and the others walked in silently, took their seats in various sit-able and un-sit-able places around the room. Then, as the shuffling feet and rustling clothes stopped, I became aware of the many pairs of eyes that focused on me, concerned and curious.

“So, Percy… You wanted to talk to us? I mean, I just assume that’s what Zoë’s summons was about. She came in here and then your soundproofing kicked in until she whistled, which by the way, is the weirdest sound you decided to be the only-sound-to-come-through-the-soundproofing-sound,” Luke said, almost in one breath, It was quite impressive, actually, and if the mood had been different, I was sure that myself and the other boys would be applauding him on his effort.

“Yeah…” I said. My breath caught a little, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as earlier. I silently sent a prayer to Crypt and Tile for the strength to get through what I was about to say.

_“Don’t worry, brother. We support you and we will help you.”_

I forced a watery grin, took a deep breath, and began to speak.


	16. My Misfortune

My story wasn’t at all a happy one. I could see it on their faces as their expression changed – constantly – the whole while I was speaking. They were angry, sad, shocked, surprised, mournful, and much more; all their emotions were rolled into one.

I didn’t even want to relive it myself but resigned myself to a retelling just one last time, for their sakes, and maybe even my own, because I’d never actually told the story aloud before. When I was done, they were silent for about ten minutes.

“Why didn’t you tell us before?” Luke asked, choking on his own voice. He sounded raw, like he was ready to start crying, but couldn’t bring himself to, or was trying to hold back to keep up a façade of strength. This tactic did nothing but bundle up his sorrow into his throat, and it was easily noticeable.

I hung my head. “I would say that it’s because I wanted to keep it to myself so that you wouldn’t see me as weak. Or… maybe even that I didn’t think you should know, but I’m realizing now that I was lying to myself for years. It wasn’t that I couldn’t trust you – far from that, actually. The reason I didn’t say anything is because, until now, I didn’t think I could face it. It was just too hard to talk about.” I started to tear up again, and despite just crying harder than I had in years, my eyes were ready to unleash my inner turmoil.

“I lost everything I cared about to-to Damian. I had nothing to live for. But when Chaos and Order saved me… I did. They didn’t just save my body or my spirit. They saved my soul. They gave me a new reason to live. To keep fighting, and I’ve never once had to look back,” I explained with a small smile creeping its way onto my face.

Suddenly, my smile was gone. “Until now.”

My warriors – _friends_ – all smiled sadly. Bianca and Zoë were seated on either side of me, arms wrapped around me for comfort. “So,” Zoë said, looking up at me, “Will you join us for the campfire?”

I was confused, and it must have shown on my face because Bianca spoke up. “It’s time for campfire already. You were up here for a long time, I think. Then again, we don’t know when you came back here,” she explained.

I nodded and stood, detaching myself from the cuddle circle. Wiping my eyes so I could put my mask back on without it being a salty wet mess, I followed the eight of them out of the room. Thinking back for a split second, maybe I shouldn’t have locked the communal boys’ bedroom. Whoops.

When we reached the campfire, everyone turned to look at us. The others sat back in the front, but I remained where I was, not wanting to join them just yet. I saw Rosie waving to me, and couldn’t really think of anywhere else to go, so I decided to sit next to her. Just as I was about to move toward her, something struck me. A gasp of pain escaped my mouth and, looking down, I saw the cause of it.

There was a knife. It was long, but that was all I could tell because the tip of the blade was sticking out of my chest from behind, having passed right through my body and lodged itself there. Whoever held the knife gave a sharp tug, causing my body to lurch. I fell.

Everything was in slow motion, and though the pain was circulating through my body, I could feel the slow beating of my heart, no panic in my veins, because I knew I would live. In the blur that was the world, I saw Haetros jump to his feet, snarling loudly. He yelped, too, and I knew it was because he felt my pain.

My head turned to see Damian. How had I not noticed him? My mind quickly cleared as the wound healed, and just as I rose to my full height again, he spoke.

“You humiliated me this morning,” he said with a scowl, “I _hate_ you.”

A jolt ran through my body. There was that word again. Hate. I felt a strong connection to it. After all, every time I was met face to face with Damian, I struggled to contain my own hatred – the deep, consuming emotion that I felt for this body. If only I could feel indifference, let go of the past like I knew I should. Alas, I could not.

With that, a voice from deep within me spoke. It wasn’t Haetros, nor Crypt, nor Tile. It was someone – some _thing_ – else. _“Why are you holding back? This is the boy who ruined your life! He slaughtered your family and stole everything and everyone you ever cared about!”_

I froze. Where did that voice come from? It wasn’t any of the others, nor did it sound like someone from the physical world. As my eyes laid upon the campers and gods, I saw that they weren’t moving. In fact, nothing was moving, not even the fire.

I must’ve stopped time.

Then, the voice spoke again, startling me. _“I am you. Can’t you see? I am the part of your mind that you created with the anger and hatred you’ve been bottling up these past five thousand years. I will always be a part of you. Just accept that, and you will be free.”_

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, aloud, because the situation couldn’t get any weirder.

 _“Kill him,”_ the voice hissed, like a serpent slithering into my ear. I shook to rid myself of the sensation.

“No. You must leave,” I commanded.

There was a chuckle. _“And how do you propose I do that? Like I said, I am you, and your hate just keeps making me stronger.”_

I stood my ground, which was slightly strange, considering I was talking to myself – or so he said. “I will get rid of you, mark my words.”

Another chuckle echoed in my head. _“Until next time, then…”_ it said, fading away slowly.

Time suddenly restarted, and I felt the sudden urge to kill Damian flare up again, but before I could, a flaming purple horn was driven through his chest. My heart stopped as blood oozed out around the wound around the horn. Damian’s body lurched, just like mine had minutes prior, and a few indistinguishable gurgling sounds came from his mouth. His eyes had nearly popped out of his skull, and when Haetros finally backed away, horn still dripping with gore, Damian collapsed to the ground. Seconds later, he was a pile of fine grey dust. With his head held high, Haetros howled triumphantly, proud of his kill.

The whole audience was silent.

The flames of the fire, low and dark as it copied the emotions of the campers, suddenly jumped, glowing brighter than I’d ever seen it before as everyone cheered. It wasn’t until Artemis spoke that my confusion fell away.

“We’ve been waiting for someone to kill that scumbag ever since Percy’s death. He was a murderer,” she said.

“Then why not finish him off yourselves?” I asked, even though I already knew what she was going to say. I wanted to hear her say it.

She shrugged. “We couldn’t. The gods swore to change, and if killing Damian was the first thing we did after swearing an oath in Percy’s name, we’d be going against everything he wanted. And he was far too noble a hero to ask for another’s death like that,” she said. Then, raising her head, she looked me straight in the eye, holding my gaze. “Besides, killing Damian wouldn’t have brought Percy back. Nothing has the power to do that.”

I nodded and then moved to check over my companion. He was healed from the stab wound, but his face was coated in Damian’s remains, which had turned to dust like the rest of him – just like all victims of Voidfyre. Pulling out a cloth, I groomed his face and polished his horn, ridding him of the filth.

Rosie ran over to me and wrapped me in a hug with her small arms. “Thank you,” she whispered as I picked her up. “You got rid of the mean boy. He always made fun of me.”

I hugged her back, close to my chest as my wings subconsciously moved to wrap around us. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s gone for good,” I replied, smiling into her soft brown hair. She must’ve felt it because she pulled away and smiled back at me. As I put her down, she ran off to once again sit with her half-siblings. They chattered away rapidly together, like birds, but were talking so fast that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what they were saying.

I sat down. It felt nice to relax for once. I mean, some of the campers – and even the gods – were still shocked from the power I displayed in my duel against Damian this morning, and some, while over the duel, was still recovering from witnessing Damian’s death via Voidfyre. If they were scared of either me or Haetros, they didn’t say so. Nor did they comment on what Voidfyre did to a person, which surprised me, because Damian had just turned to dust right in front of them. That’s usually something a person would talk about.

Instead, they were just talking with friends, chatting about trivial matters or laughing as they told jokes and stories. Campers were sitting, clustered, around my warriors, who were spinning adventurous tales of their interstellar missions and mishaps. I wished so badly to be apart of it all, but something was holding me back. Something was missing. Some _one_ was missing. And I knew just who it was.

My father. Poseidon.

Of course, he wasn’t my father anymore. He’d made sure of that when he disowned me, relinquishing me of his bloodline, powers, and name. Despite that, I still missed him. I missed him like a student would miss a teacher, or a camper their counsellor. No longer did we have a father-son relationship, but I still felt close to him, and I wanted to see him. I wanted to tell him that I still cared – that I was still alive. I just wanted him to be close, with me, so we could just sit together and talk.

Behind my mask, I felt my face pinch with emotion but forced myself not to cry. Not again. Not today. I wanted my dad back, but my turmoil of emotions wouldn’t do anything to make it happen, so no use dwelling on them. Poseidon was fading, and my tears wouldn’t stop that from happening. I’d have to talk to him, face to face. If he knew I was still alive and that I still cared, surely, he would come back from the brink and allow himself to heal. Surely, I could save him.

It was only when I felt a gentle nudge on my arm that I looked up to notice that someone had sat beside me. “Why so glum?” the person asked in a _very_ familiar voice. It was a voice that – despite having heard it so many times before – sent a delightful yet confusing shiver down my spine.

I swallowed thickly. _Oh boy. Why is it always me?_ Turning, I let my eyes come to rest on the beautiful silver orbs of Artemis. Her eyes stared directly into mine, curiosity shining in them as she studied my face as if trying to imagine what my face looked like under my mask.

Our eyes were only together for a split second before I broke the gaze, eyes resting on the ground in front of me. As long as I didn’t look at her, I’d be fine. I just… couldn’t let her figure out my identity; it would end in disaster, especially if anyone found out that she’d found out. She’d be in constant danger, and I couldn’t put her through that. It wouldn’t be right and fair to her in any way. I could live with no one knowing who I was, but to put her in danger, I couldn’t do that.

“I was just thinking about someone,” I replied vaguely.

“Really?” she asked conversationally, “Why’s that?”

“Just… that I wish he were here right now. It’s not really the same without him,” I confessed, my voice soft but sincere.

She sighed. “Me too. I feel that Perseus should be here to enjoy this. He was the one who made all of this happen.” She gestured around, to where the gods were sitting with their children, and the campers were smiling and having fun. “He was the one who brought us together, yet he is not even here to appreciate what he accomplished.” By the end, Artemis’ tone was mournful. She sounded so sad; I suddenly felt the need to hug her but decided against it since she would probably put an arrow through my eye or turn me into a hedgehog or something.

I took a brief moment to consider what it would be like to be a hedgehog, but quickly shoved the thought aside and cursed my ADHD.

After I was able to push the feeling down, consciously holding my arms in place at my sides, I allowed myself to be confused. Didn’t Artemis hate all boys? I mean, I’m not one to be ill-educated on the happenings of the universe, so if Artemis had stopped her man-hating ways, I would’ve heard about it, right?

“You cared for him a lot, didn’t you?” I asked, hoping that I wasn’t overstepping. I was curious, and it was a question that could be taken in a multitude of ways.

Artemis nodded absentmindedly, but despite the faraway look in her eyes, I could tell she was listening. That, in and of itself, was what really surprised me. She cared? Even before I died?

“I bet he didn’t even realize it,” I said. That was true enough; I was pretty obvious back then. Some might even argue that I was still that way, and I guess I wouldn’t be able to say anything against them. With Artemis, I never got the chance to stop and think when I was around her, probably because a) we’d been in the middle of a battle with a titan, or b) the gods were contemplating my death. Those had been the only two times I’d really been around her while I was still alive, like, _really_ around her, and not just seeing her in passing.

She gave a watery smile. “No, I don’t think he did. He was too busy saving the world, so we never really got the chance to talk. Besides, he was constantly off with that Athena spawn. “Artemis scoffed. “And in the end, she threw it away. Threw _him_ away. She may have been enchanted, but enchantments only work on people that are susceptible to them. She’d already been having doubts, even if she herself wasn’t aware of them.” She took a deep breath. “And even if we had talked, he probably wouldn’t have realized it. He always did have a head full of sea foam.”

I had to admit, that was clever, and even laughed a little – something I hadn’t been able to do sincerely in a long time.

Artemis continued. “Near the end, I saw his family abandon him and… I wanted to comfort him so badly, but I was too late. I was too scared, and he got himself killed. He died, defending us of all things. We, as his one and only family, abandoned him and he still gave his life to save us. After what we did, we didn’t deserve what he gave up. And… the worst part was when I just stood there, watching him die. The look in his eyes… he died thinking that we didn’t care – that we _hated_ him. And he looked so… broken is the only word that can describe how he must’ve felt. He was a broken hero, and we didn’t even deserve him in the first place.”

A single tear fell from her eyes and trailed slowly down her cheek. It was the symbol of her strength, finally waning under the immense weight of his death. Before the tear even reached her chin, she wiped it away and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to keep any more from escaping.

It was that moment that I nearly gave in. I wanted to tell her who I was. I wanted to tell her how I felt about her; I wanted to say how much she meant to me.

But I couldn’t. I had to keep up my mask, both physically, and emotionally. It was for her own safety and the safety of everyone she cared about. If anyone – an enemy – found out how much I cared for her, she would be in grave danger. I couldn’t put her through that. Not again. I caused the death of her best friend; I couldn’t allow her to die as well, and I couldn’t risk her being captured again. She deserved to be free – free as a bird.

Carefully, I rested a comforting hand in her shoulder, testing if she would pull away from me or not. She didn’t, so I took that as a go-ahead for rubbing gentle circles on her back as if the movement would soothe away the sorrow. I knew that only one person who could truly take away her pain, though, and I wasn’t prepared to bring him. He wasn’t here; he couldn’t show up - because I couldn’t allow it. Only when I stopped pretending to be someone else could he come to camp, and bottom-line: I wasn’t ready to give up the life that I’d created for myself.

I knew that everyone was staring with even having to look up. They’d probably heard our whole conversation, but, rerunning it through my head, I couldn’t bring myself to care. They didn’t seem so surprised, so maybe it was a known fact how Artemis felt? All the veteran campers, like Nico, Annabeth, and the rest of the seven, had tears in their eyes. As did the gods, and even a few of the younger campers. So… maybe they’d only heard the last bit…

Wait-! Was that _Zeus_ crying? And _Ares_ too? My eyebrows nearly leapt off my face. Wow. Never thought I’d see the day.

“Percy was always kind to me,” Hestia said suddenly, gaining her everyone’s attention. “He never ignored me, even though I’m not one of the Olympians anymore. He saw me as I am and though me just as important as everyone else.” She sniffled, then swiped a hand over her face to catch falling tears.

I missed Hestia. In my opinion, she was the best goddess when it came to her kind, generous soul. _“And her sandwiches. Don’t forget about her sandwiches,”_ my ADHD added. _“Stupid ADHD. Stop adding thoughts in my head that I don’t need,”_ I thought. _“Shut up,”_ my ADHD said back. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Whoa, that’s sort of creepy.

When I finally focused back on reality, Zeus was speaking. Whoops. “-saved us many times, and we never truly got to thank him. He was selfless and different from any other hero.”

Well, it seems like they’re all just praising me. Again. I shifted uncomfortably, but not enough for anyone to notice because it was sort of strange. Why did everyone have to praise me?

“Even though he was the one who saved the Fleece, he let me take it back to camp and take the credit because it was my quest.”

“Percy helped Luke die a hero. He believed in my son when no one else did and helped him do the right thing.”

My heart clenched. One by one, everyone was saying something about me from when I was alive. Everyone who’d ever known me said something, In the end, Hades was the one to finish it off: “He truly was the greatest demigod to ever live.” Everyone nodded, even my angels, who’d stood and been waiting at the edges of the amphitheatre, all eight of them agreeing in secret.

Rosie suddenly jumped to her feet. “When I grow up, I want to be just like Percy!” she declared happily, a large smile stretching across her face. I smiled as well, though mine was smaller, as did everyone else around me.

“I’m sure that Percy would be delighted to hear you say that, Rosie. It’s sad that you weren’t able to meet him. I’m certain that the two of you would’ve gotten along like milk and cereal,” Demeter said. She looked down. “But he’s done, and not even his soul remains to wander the Underworld, so we cannot tell him how sorry we are for what we did.”

The mood fell once again like the whole amphitheatre was a roller coaster. That was when a new voice spoke. Another familiar voice. “Percy was always too kind for his own good. He sacrifices himself for us because he cared about us, regardless of what we did to him. He forgave the unforgivable and died thinking that everyone he cared about hated him.” I could recognize that voice anywhere. It was Grover.

He’d grown shaggier, but not by too much, and his horns were larger, but still kind of juvenile for a satyr. I mean, he was… what? Forty years old now? His face was a picture of sadness, though, just like everyone else’s.

“They always said that his fatal flaw was loyalty,” Grover went on, choking up, “But they didn’t say that it would be our betrayal that caused it.”

I had tears in my eyes but couldn’t let them fall. Mainly because it was very uncomfortable to cry under a mask. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said, trying to sound as normal as possible, “I’m sure that wherever Percy is now, he knows that you all regret your actions against him, and he knows what you’ve done to reconcile. If he were here today, I’m certain that he’d want you to move on, to forgive yourselves as he forgave you, instead of dwelling on the past. He’d want you to push forward and live.”

My speech was met only with looks of gratitude as everyone faced me, tears staining their cheeks.

 _“When did you become so philosophical?”_ Haetros asked.

Looking down at him, I glared playfully. _“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve always been philosophical!”_

He rolled his eyes (as well as any wolf could roll their eyes) and gave a scoff. _“Keep telling yourself that,_ your highness _, because sometimes you’re rather dense.”_

_“Don’t call me that! You know that I hate being called by my title!”_

He grinned smugly. _“Yes, I know. Why do you think I did it?”_

In response, I flicked his nose.

He was speechless. When he finally found words, he still stuttered. _“Did you just… flick my nose?”_ he asked, incredulously. His mouth hung agape.

 _“Yes, I just did,”_ I replied with a cheeky grin.

Suddenly realizing that we weren’t alone – as we usually were when conversing – I looked up to see that everyone was staring at us. Artemis, who was still sitting next to me, had one hand raised as if she was about to wave it across my face.

“What was that?” she asked.

“What was what?” I responded, still feeling a little cheeky.

“You just zoned out, or something. We’ve been trying to get your attention.”

“Oh. Sorry about that. I was speaking to Haetros. He only speaks telepathically, and only to me, so I guess it must be strange when we talk to each other. You see, he doesn’t usually show himself to others, so we don’t have a problem. I guess I haven’t really spoken to him before in front of other people.”

Everyone nodded, though they still looked confused.

“Zeus,” I called, grabbing his attention, “Now that you’ve seen the opposition, I think its best to start training everyone. Also, we should gather everyone we know here because if we’re all in one spot, it should confuse the monsters and lead them all straight here for us to defeat. They’ll be thrown off by the demigods’ overwhelming scents and with our combined abilities and fighting styles, we should be able to easily take them down.”

Zeus nodded thoughtfully. “That seems like an excellent suggestion.” I will have the Amazons contacted, as they are the only ones not yet here. They are sure to arrive by morning.” He gave Thalia, Jason, and his youngest child (Damian sneered) each a hug before he was gone in a flash – back to Olympus.

The other gods save for Artemis, who went back to her cabin, and Hestia, who was tending the hearth, followed him back. With a quick, genuine smile to Hestia, I lead the commanders back to our cabin and got ready for bed. Hopefully, tomorrow would be more fruitful. I had a strange feeling that something bad was coming, I wasn’t sure when exactly, but it would happen sometime in the next few days.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 4225**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	17. But it's Luke's Turn...

***First Person Point of View ~ Proteus***

A great wave of fear rushed through my body. Summoning what little courage I had, I crept forward. “Okay,” I whispered to myself, “It’s now or never. I must do this…” My footsteps were small and silent. I could hear everything, and every creak of the floorboards sent jolts up my body.

The others were standing behind me, their support raising me up and keeping me on the path to victory. Every step was a mile, and a bead of sweat ran down the side of my face.

I was almost there. I faltered. My courage waned. “Nope. No. Nein. Nyet. I can’t do this. Someone else do it,” I said, spinning around on socked feet and attempting to escape my fate. Someone caught my arm and whipped me around. I whimpered.

“You have to, Proteus! I did it, last time,” Hester hissed in my ear. Her lips were right next to my ear lobe, and sent shivers down my spine, but not _those_ shivers. The shivers I got were of terror. My fate was sealed.

“But why?”

She scoffed. “Honestly, get a grip. It’s not that bad.”

I stared at her, mouth agape. “If it’s _not that bad_ why don’t _you_ do it? Last time, I almost _died_!” I protested. My second escape was similarly stopped by her, but this time, she shoved me toward my target.

“Fine,” I grumbled. With a second push, I approached my destination.

Silently, I started to psyche myself up. _‘I can do this. I know I can. I’m the fifth most powerful being in the universe. Single digits baby.’_ I grinned. Yeah. It wouldn’t be so bad. After all, I’d done it before, and I was still around to tell the tale. My grin fell, suddenly as I stopped – right outside the door. _‘I just wish Percy – Abaddon – hadn’t slept in today. It must be nightmares. Oh no.’_

I grabbed the door handle. My fingers quivered as I turned it, tediously. The door creaked loudly as it opened, and I cringed. Peeking inside, I called, “Percy? A-are… are you awake?” My voice was nothing more than a squeak, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find it in me to speak any louder.

Just my luck, the lump on the bed was moving. At first, relief washed over me; he was waking up. Then, the relief vanished, and dread set in. He wasn’t waking up; he was having a nightmare – and a terrible one by the looks of it.

With timid movements, I walked into the room, the others following close behind. Once I was in, the eight cowards hovered in the door frame, waving their hands to urge me on. I sent a withering look at Hester, who just grinned brightly at my distress. Seriously, that woman was trying to get me killed.

Shuffling along the smooth wooden floor, my socks gliding seamlessly over the surface. When I finally reached the bed, I noticed Haetros, who was lying next to Percy, his fuzzy head resting on his own plush pillow. There was a round pillow on the floor, but I guess Haetros didn’t get the memo. He was just… _there_ cuddled in his arms like an oversized teddy bear. I smiled. That humorous thought calmed my nerves, if only slightly.

The blanket was thrown to the side, and I saw – as usual, he was sleeping in just a pair of black sweatpants. Looking a little higher, I felt my jaw drop. He was perfectly formed, and I took a moment to admire his perfectly sculpted eight-pack of marble. That was the kind of definition that was only built from centuries of hard-core training.

I paused. Maybe what Hester said wasn’t so far-fetched after all. Or maybe I was just jealous of his muscles. Yeah… I’ll go with that. That’ll help me do this way faster.

“Stop drooling and hurry up, boy!” Hester hissed. Adara had paused to also admire Percy’s abs, but then looked at Caminus and seemed to decide that she preferred him, because those two were now busy making eyes at each other lovingly.

I glared at her, then spun back around to look at Percy, His wings would be hard to manoeuvre around, seeing as they were splayed out over the edge of the bed. That didn’t look at all comfortable, but when being blessed with wings, you learn to live with them, which included finding a comfortable way to sleep. His hair, as usual, was messy and his surfer’s tan was perfectly even.

It wasn’t fair. Every girl – and even a couple of the guys – on Cofando that wasn’t already taken kept trying to get a date with him. The problem is that Percy’s from Earth and most of the people of Cofando are subtler than he’s used to. I would wager that he doesn’t even notice them ogling him whenever he walks down the street. Besides, he was always busy being princely and fulfilling his princely duties, no matter how much he hated to wear his crown.

Finally pulling myself out of admiring him – for purely appreciative, platonic reasons! – I focused back on the matter at hand. Looking around for something, I grabbed a ruler from his desk and reached out, the item shaking from the intense tremble of my hand. Ever so gently, I prodded him in the foot.

He shot straight up, wings unfurling. Haetros’ eyes snapped open and he jumped out of Percy’s arms.

And, with the bravest, most courageous smile, I said, “So, I see you’re awake.”

I’m lying. I screamed like I’d been kicked in the soft spot and ran out of the room, pushing the others out of my way as I went. They were on their own.

*******

***First Person Point of View ~ Abaddon***

Waking up-, the first thing I heard was a loud scream, so I burst out of bed, ready for battle. Haetros jumped out of my arms, and when everything finally came into focus, I saw that I was in my room and Proteus was running – screaming – out of my room.

The eight other commanders were standing in the doorway awkwardly; one of them was even whistling as if that would solve anything.

I scoffed and stood up, shoving the last of the blanket off my feet and bringing them to the floor. With my toes nicely encased in some slippers, I smirked, looking at Haetros. He was on the ground, just standing there, and we looked at each other, meeting eyes for a split second before we both burst out laughing. Well, I did. His laughter was silent to all but me, as his telepathic chuckles filled my head.

That was so weird – what just happened. What was wrong with him, I wonder? Did he not like the view?

It was then that I noticed the extra laughter playing in my head and realized that Crypt and Tile had been awake and must’ve seen the whole thing. I mean, it _was_ pretty funny. “ _I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke wet his pants before,”_ I thought.

 _“Me neither, but whatever that was, it was hilarious!”_ Tile responded with gusto, though how he managed to say that between his peals of laughter was beyond me.

Quickly sliding my mask on, I ran outside, completely ignoring the others as they yelled. They were saying something about me forgetting my cloak and shirt, but… maybe that was a conscious choice. You never know. I smiled under my mask, looking around to see if I could spot Proteus.

I found him easily enough, just outside the cabin, crouching behind a small bush. His usual strong hands were covering his head and he emitted soft whimpers. I approached him cautiously, like how one would approach a frightened animal, but it was no use. As soon as he looked up and saw me, he just screamed again and jumped up, running again.

At this point, we’d drawn a crowd, which was unfortunate for him – as they blocked his exits – and Proteus was left to run in circles, still screaming. I paused for a moment to admire the ease at which he made those impressive turns, but after a while it got old, so I called out his name.

That did nothing. Not even when I commanded him to stop in my loud, princely voice. The campers were everywhere at this point, and even the Amazons – who, true to Zeus’ word, were right on time. Artemis and her hunters were hanging back a little, probably half annoyed that we were making a ruckus right outside their cabin and half reciting the stupidity of all men in their heads as they watched, not looking amused in the slightest. They also seemed to be the only ones who’d gotten changed before coming out here. That, or they slept in their uniforms.

After that, the gods teleported in one by one – though, most of them still in their pyjamas as well. I had to stifle a laugh when I saw Zeus. He was wearing striped pyjamas and had a sleeping cap on his head to match, which was lopsided. I mean, I wasn’t one to talk, but at least I wasn’t wearing a _sleeping_ _cap!_

“What is going on here?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned. “Do you know what time it is?”

“An ungodly hour?” I guessed with a grin on my face. He sent me a sleepy glare, so I continued, “It’s actually pretty late. Usually, the army would all be up and training half an hour ago.”

That was the moment when I realized that once again, I was in the middle of camp without my shirt. Maybe I just liked to distract them, but then I remember how much I hated attention. It seemed like they were are staring, some trying not to, but others shameless with their hungry gazes. The hunters seemed to be the only ones disinterested, though I did catch a glimpse of one or two pretending too hard to look away.

I’m pretty sure I even heard Aphrodite whisper, “Oh my gods, he’s beautiful,” but then again, maybe I was just hearing things.

Looking back at Proteus, I caught his ear as he ran past me and flipped him, sending him smashing into the ground with force.

“Ow,” he wheezed, a little winded from the move. “That was painful.”

I hauled him up and placed him beside me. Thankfully, he hadn’t _actually_ wet his pants, as Tile had suggested earlier, but he still had made an utter fool of himself in front of the entire camp.

“Well…” I said, my eyes wandering back over to the swarms of campers. “I’m going to go get some clothes on, then maybe you’ll all remember what eyelids are for. Bye now.” With that, I darted back inside, leaving Proteus to the whims of the campers. He wasn’t too far behind, and scampered inside after me, shutting the door and barring it to keep out the obsessed fangirls – and boys.

*******

After I was safely back in my room and had a shirt pulled over my torso and a heavy cloak hiding me completely, I went outside. Good thing I could telepathically make my weapons go into all of their secret pockets, because it would’ve taken hours just to stow away my assortment of knives, let alone the daggers, brass knuckles, short swords, and my crossbow and all of its arrows. Yes, I can shoot a crossbow. It took many, many, _many_ years of training, but I can shoot a crossbow. A longbow is another story altogether…

Anyway, I went outside. The other warriors were already there and as soon as I stepped outside, their backs straightened, standing in two perfect lines of four on either side of the cabin door. I gave a quick hand signal and they relaxed.

Surprisingly, everyone else had gotten dressed in the meantime and were all waiting for me. Why they didn’t just go to the dining pavilion was beyond me, but then again, maybe some were already there. The others, though, had decided to stay back and wait – maybe they wanted another peep show, I wouldn’t know – dressed and watching me with expectant eyes.

“Excuse me,” a clear and distinct voice startled me out of my thoughts. It was Hylla, queen of the Amazons. Wow, she lasted a long time as queen. That’s good.

I bowed formally to her royal majesty. “Lady Hylla, a pleasure to finally meet you,” I said, holding out my hand in offering.

She looked a little uncomfortable – probably because her first sight of me was without my shirt – but placed her hand in mine and I brought it to my lips for a swift kiss. Releasing her hand, I stood, only to see her face flush a bright red.

“So…” she said, “You are this prince I keep hearing so much about?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Heir to the universe, at your service, milady, but please, just call me Abaddon. I’m not overly fond of the title.”

“Wouldn’t know it, though, would you, since he never wears his crown,” Proteus muttered from behind me. Then, his eyes lit up, and I felt dread settle in my stomach. “You know what? I’m going to go tell their royal highnesses right now that you’re not wearing your crown.” He darted out of place in line and went back inside. I didn’t even try to stop him, knowing my fate was sealed either way. I sighed.

I mean, I could’ve stopped time to grab him, but it was no point. No one could force me to wear that crown, not even Chaos himself. I mean, Order may be able to, but she knew how much I hated to wear it. I would only let that vile ring of metal touch my hair when absolutely necessary, and both she and Chaos knew that.

“Well, that was strange,” I said, turning back to look at everyone. “I apologize for waking you all up earlier this morning; that was most inconsiderate of me.” I didn’t even want to mention the whole ‘shirtless’ part of it, so I left it at that before things got awkward. Well, _more awkward_.

I clapped my hands together with a crisp _smack_. “I think now is the time for breakfast, and then we should get prepared,” I advised them. I began to walk toward the dining pavilion.

Annabeth intercepted me, her hand on my shoulder. I glanced down at it, turning slightly.

The warriors gasped in unison, staring at her.

“Prepared for what?” she asked, unaffected by their disbelief.

My eyes met hers through my mask. “Training, of course,” I replied smoothly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of a little game called _Capture the Flag_?” The last three words brought a maniacal grin to my face.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2470**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	18. The Game Gets Rough

I stopped in the middle of the forest, my cloak billowing majestically around me in the soft breeze.

“This game will be only a bit different than your usual games, from what I’ve been told,” I said, quickly tacking on the last bit to cover up how I knew about their games. “The rules are generally the same; each team will have a flag, and each opposing team will have to try to capture their flag. However, only one guard may be chosen for each flag. Secondly, the one who plucked the flag may not be the one to cross with the flag to their own side.”

There were some protests, but I raised my hand and they immediately fell silent.

“There will be five teams – campers will split into two groups, hunters, amazons, and my warriors – and each team may steal _any_ flag from an opposing team, even a captured flag. Once captured, a flag is put next to the first, and more guards may be chosen. Teams may steal back their flag if they wish, but only one flag may be taken at a time. The winner is the team with the most flags at the end of the time of the game.”

“How long will this last? Usually, we play until one team takes the flag,” Annabeth asked.

“This game will last the entire day. We’ve all had breakfast, and each team base will be equipped with food and drink, enough for everyone to have lunch whenever they feel hungry,” I replied. “I invite the gods to play for any team they choose. And, as my warriors and I will be playing, I must enter some restrictions. No teleportation, of course, no killing or maiming, and prisoners may be disarmed, but not bound or gagged.”

“But there are only ten of you, and the next smallest groups are the Hunters and the Amazons, who each have forty!” Annabeth called out. “How are these teams fair?”

I gave her a knowing smile. “Of course, they’re fair. I did say that gods could choose the teams they wished to join, didn’t I? You underestimate our ability to work as a cohesive unit, daughter of Athena,” I said, my tone leaving nothing to be inferred.

My angels and I all summoned our armour and I pulled out my black and silver bow. “I shall be fighting with my bow,” I announced, “And I’ll leave Constantine to guard our flag.” Behind me, Constantine nodded, his single eye shining with determination behind his mask.

With a grin, I held out my hand and a silver pole materialized in my palm. The flag itself was black and appeared to be woven out of pure darkness, which it was. Chaos and Order’s symbols were displayed proudly on it in pure silver, along with mine. They sparkled like stars in the sunlight. I handed the flag off to Constantine, and he marched out into the forest to plant it in our sector as according to the diagram of the forest boundaries I’d made before explaining the game.

Turning to the others, I saw that each of the four opposing teams had their flags. The huntresses’ flag was silver, of course, the Amazons’ was deep olive green, and the two teams of campers, split with a mix of Greek and Roman each, were plain white with each of the gods’ symbols stitched all over them. The gods had, of course, chosen their teams, meaning Artemis was with her hunters and each of the campers’ teams had five.

Artemis held her own flag and I grinned. It seemed that she would be the guard of theirs. I saluted her before she moved to place her own flag. For the campers’ teams, each selected a god sponsor, Zeus for one, and Athena for the other. And the Amazons had selected their queen, Hylla, to guard theirs.

Closing my eyes, I sensed the others – not where they were – but if they were moving. As soon as everyone was in position, I raised the conch horn to my lips and blew it. A crisp, clear note rang forth, thunderous in my own ears, but heard all throughout the forest.

Let the games begin…

*******

Trees stretched tall into the sky all around me, their leafy branches blocking out the bright sunlight to give the ground a glorious dappled effect. I trod along silently, my boots making no noise despite the crunchy leaves and needles that littered the forest floor. Proteus and Belen were my distraction as I entered the hunters’ territory. Belen met them arrow-for-arrow as Proteus swept in with his sword, shaking the trees and generally making a ruckus to draw their fire.

Glancing back, I frowned as they knocked many of the huntresses into unconsciousness, so I sent them a mental spark of annoyance. Proteus’ head snapped up, and though he couldn’t see where I was, he nodded his head and moved the hunters to the side, so they weren’t in an undignified heap. Leaving them like that would, of course, be a crude and unhonourable way to leave an enemy on the battlefield. Even in our wars, the dead on both sides were respected and their belongings left to be returned to their families.

On the way, my camouflage kept me from the prying eyes of the campers, Amazons, and gods as they prowled the forest. My destination was clear, and as I saw it up ahead, a grin graced my lips.

Artemis was in the clearing up ahead, their flag displayed proudly in the center as she perched in a tree high above it, eyes keen and watching for intruders. She was a true hunter with the eagle eyes to match, but I was better. I’d spent five thousand years perfecting my technique of sneaking up on hunters such as her – the very best of the best couldn’t detect my presence, so Artemis, clearly not expecting my level of skill, would stand no chance.

I got five feet behind her, perched in a tree close to hers when she finally noticed me. She still jumped as I said hello, but the reaction was far too contained. She must’ve felt something, but not enough to know it was me. Her bow was loaded at a speed I’d only seen with the best of archers, arrow-tip pointing directly between my eyes.

Even when she saw my face, she didn’t stutter, nor did she lower her bow. Her only reaction was a playful grin revealing her perfectly white teeth. “Hello,” she replied. “You’ve made it here. Congratulations. Not many people can make it past my hunters, but I should’ve expected as much.”

“Your hunters are fine warriors, trained by the best, I see, but my warriors are trained by better, and have lived far longer on Cofando than your hunters here on earth,” I complimented.

She perked up. “How do you mean?” her curiosity seemed to get the better of her, however, it didn’t catch her off guard, nor did she let her defences waver.

“I believe it is like how your Lair of the Lotus Eaters works here. Time passes on Cofando at a far greater rate than on earth. I’ve only just witnessed the differences myself, but a year spent here is far, far longer on Cofando.”

“Really?” she asked as we both leapt to the ground, circling one another in the clearing. I felt the grass cave beneath my feet and wished more than ever to take off my shoes and feel it between my toes – we didn’t have grass on Cofando, not like this anyway – but refrained.

“It helps us to make decisions. Around us, time moves slowly – almost at a stand-still – and armies take far longer to prepare than we do. It gives us the advantage we need to protect all other planets.”

“But…” this was where Artemis faltered, “When you’re on missions…only a day here is months there? Don’t you all have family that misses you?”

I sighed. “Yes, of course, the warriors have spouses, and even mates within the army itself, all travelling to separate sections of the universe where time flows at different rates. There is not much difference, though, as all inhabitants of Cofando are immortal. We are used to the long days and get much done as our life-stars – suns, you may call them – circle our planet. One thousand years is the blink of an eye for some if they’ve lived a long enough life. You know that, surely?”

Artemis nodded. “Yes, I do.”

With an impish smirk, I said, “Shall we dance, milady?”

“if you can keep up.”

Her arrows were sparks of moonlight, each bolt faster than the naked eye could see, and if I wasn’t blessed by the creators, I’m sure I’d have been flat on my back with several arrows protruding from my chest at this very moment. Luckily for me, I didn’t have their blessings and had a very wide plethora of powers I could use to my advantage in this duel. I set the mental dial of my powers to medium – within a god’s range of abilities.

With the speed of Hermes, I plucked her arrows from the air and just shot them right back at her. I’d long since learned to use a bow, learning that it was far easier when I had the right teacher. Don’t get me wrong, Chiron was amazing, but different forms of shooting – specifically a style borne on Cofandian soil – was what I was really missing.

We traded arrows, mine black and hers silver, like tossing several concussive bolts of lightning back and forth in the deadliest game of catch this earth had ever known. Each volley was caught, dodged, or countered, and as we used and reused ours and each others’ arrows, neither of us seemed to be running out any time soon.

When would it end? I wondered that very thing as I advanced, slowly, and steadily. “You know we’ll eventually have to switch to other weapons. This standstill could continue well into the night,” I said.

“Could you last that long, though?” she asked. She seemed completely at ease shooting nonstop; she hadn’t even broken a sweat. Neither had I, mind you, but I had places to be and flags to take.

Finally, I took my chance – the chance to get in close. Throwing my bow over my shoulder, I drew two hunting knives from my sides and ran directly at her, each step of mine closing the distance between us at a rapid pace. She, too, discarded her bow and drew her knives.

As we clashed, I glanced to the side. We had an audience. Albeit a small one, but an audience, nonetheless. There were a few of her hunters, a few campers, gods, and of course, my warriors. _“It’s time to put on a show, boys,”_ I thought.

 _“Blow their socks off,”_ Tile replied.

 _“Where did you even hear that?”_ Crypt interrupted. They began going off in a conversation about earthly idioms, so I tuned them out, focusing on my fight. With my signature grin plastered on my face, I slowed time around the two of us. Everything turned silent. We were only a few feet apart when she lashed out with the first blow.

I’ll give it to her, Artemis was fast. My admiration for this silver-eyed temptress in front of me extended far beyond her physical appearance, but to the speed and power, she had in battle as well. I was holding back during our fight, of course, so we may be evenly matched, but she sure knew how to use the skills she had.

Each of our strikes and blows was countered. Retaliations were redirected, and swift assaults were deflected. I felt the waves of aura she was expelling this fight – something that all gods suffered from during battle – and took that to my advantage. I’d had many a training session to stop me from expelling power just in this way, and even collecting it from others to use as my own. I felt her strength seep into my very pores, my spirit soaking in the essence of her.

It was only a matter of time before she lost energy, and with my rapid increase of time around the two of us, it happened quicker than imagined. Her movements slowed, and with a quick slash, I got under her guard, the hilt of my sword bouncing against her temple with one concussive blow. Or, for a god, just one to knock her out for a few minutes. She collapsed, and with the grace of a deer, I caught her in my arms, my knives materializing back at my belt and time setting itself right around us.

As expected, she blinked herself awake only a minute later, though was still largely out of it, so I supported her, smiling in victory. The gods stared, so in shock that they didn’t seem able to lift their jaws back up from the ground. I’d just beaten their most skilled fighter – objectively speaking, of course – without breaking a sweat. Well, like I’d ever tell them if I broke a sweat.

Using their shock to my advantage, I nodded to Proteus, who plucked the hunters’ flag from the ground and tossed it over to me. With my free hand, I caught it easily and lifted Artemis a little higher before dashing out of the clearing. We were still playing a game, after all, and I was determined to win.

As soon as I crossed the border and delivered the flag to Constantine, I set Artemis down, laying her on the soft moss of our log to heal her wounds.

 _“_ Your _log? Just because it’s the same log you talked to her on, doesn’t mean it’s yours,”_ Tile hissed into my ear.

 _“Yes, it does. Shut up,”_ I replied.

Immediately, her eyes snapped open. “What happened?” she demanded, hand clutching the front of my armour. She turned slightly, seeing Constantine, who waved from his position guarding my flag, and now hers as well. She groaned.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, standing and holding out my hand for her to grasp.

Swatting away my hand, she stood, face flushed a deep red. “Yeah, I’m alright.” She turned away, probably embarrassed for losing,

It probably would be the worst time to try and make her feel better about it, or even make a joke about how it was bound to happen because my power level was high above hers – that would be the worst possible move – so I just said, “Your hunters are over that way.” I pointed to her right.

She only gave a nod of acknowledgement before rushing off in that direction. I watched, my eyes lingering on her form, even as she disappeared between the trees. I sighed.

“Dude, you’re in love. Just admit it and everything will be easier,” Constantine’s voice was right behind me, and I jumped.

“By the gods! Don’t do that!”

He shrugged. “I’m a spy. Being stealthy is my thing.”

Just then, Rosie jumped out of the bushed and tackled me in a hug. I smiled. “Hey, Rosie. Is this your first game of capture the flag?” I asked with a wide, friendly grin.

She nodded enthusiastically, giving me a big smile in return, showing off the missing tooth she was sporting. In its place, a new tooth was already peeking out, and I smacked myself for not having noticed it earlier. I’d always missed the old days of my childhood – before knowing about Poseidon, or the gods, or even before I’d met Grover. I liked being a little kid; it was just mom and me, together and safe.

“What did you think of it?” I asked, turning my attention back to the little girl in my arms.

She giggled. “Next time, I want to be on _your_ team!” she answered happily, watching as Vinum rushed passed us to hand off the first camper team’s flag to Constantine, who just added it to our growing collection.

I was just about to answer when Artemis ran back toward us, Haetros trotting alongside her. That was strange.

“What happened?” I asked, setting Rosie aside and standing as I saw the worry etched into both of their faces.

“We’re under attack,” Artemis replied. “He has my hunters.” Oh. So _that_ was the reason. A very valid reason it was – the hunters were like her sisters. They were the family that she made for herself when her own family wasn’t what she needed. The hunters were her home, the group that she could always go back to and put her faith in when all else failed. And now, because of Destruction, my…uncle… she was in danger of losing just that.

I nodded. Kneeling back down, I placed both of my hands on Rosie’s shoulders. “Sweetie, you need to go find your mom, okay? She’ll protect you,” I told her.

She nodded, though there was fear in her eyes; it was just barely masked by her determination.

I looked at Artemis. “Please, make sure she gets there safely. I’ll get your hunters back, but I need to know that Rosie is safe, okay?”

“You can trust me, you know that.”

“Yes, I do.” With that, I followed Haetros out into the woods, while Artemis scooped Rosie up into her arms and ran off in the opposite direction. The border was just ahead of me. As I crossed it, I saw them: Destruction and his army of monsters.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2925**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	19. Fallen Angel

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

As was Abaddon’s plea, I brought the young demigod, Rosie, back to the other gods. I was glad to do it, as I knew she’d be safe with them, however, I cursed myself for leaving him to fend off the impending assault alone. It was a silly notion, I know, for someone as strong as he is, what use could I be? but I still felt, deep within my soul that I was letting him down somehow. The growing feeling of dread did not alleviate from my shoulders, even as I delivered Rosie to her mother’s waiting arms.

“Destruction is here,” I said. “He has my hunters. Abaddon is trying to stop them, but…I fear there is not much he can do on his own.”

“We’ll stand by your side, sister,” Athena promised.

Gratitude swept through me for my half-sister. Never had I felt such joy in the unification of my family. They were all willing to stand by my side to retrieve my sisters-in-arms.

“I want to help, too!” a demigod declared, but I shook my head.

“For this army, you must stay behind. We do not know this enemy, though we know he is far more powerful than even Gaea. Your lives would be extinguished by him before you even toed the line of our borders.”

The demigod shrank back, but sighed and nodded, as did the rest of the demigods gathered around us. It seemed that everyone was there, somehow, and I could only assume how this could have happened. It was most likely due to Chiron, who took the initiative of summoning everyone as soon as I’d arrived.

With all of the campers safe within the confines of the camp, my family and I teleported to the border, where Abaddon and the rest of his angels already were. They seemed to be at a stalemate with the army, as both fronts stood tall and unwavering, Abaddon and Destruction at their heads.

I came to a halt far behind them and took that opportunity to scan the crowd. The man we faced had a black sceptre perched in his left hand, pulsing with dark energy from a bulbous purple gemstone. On his head sat a crown of obsidian, almost resembled Hades’ helm of darkness, though it only showed scenes of pain, and gave off a much more powerful sense of fear and hopelessness.

Next, I saw my hunters. They were imprisoned, as I’d seen them before, lying together in a gilded cage, like frail birds to an unforgiving master. The horrific monster, Kampê, guarded this cage, her eyes sharp as hey stared into my soul. The animal heads on her stomach shuddered, then a bear burst forth and roared in defiance of my goal.

Destruction looked up at us and a delighted smile stretched his thin grey lips. He radiated evil like I’d never felt before; shivers rolled down my spine like the delicate legs of a large spider dancing over my flesh. “Wonderful! Everyone is here!”

His voice was worse than I imagined it; it was tar coming off his tongue, but smooth as poison; it promised a slow and painful death. “And my nephew, so glad you could make it.” He turned his attention to Abaddon.”

“You may be my uncle by law, Destruction, but I would never acknowledge you as any family of mine!” he snarled, the words just barely making it through his clenched teeth. A surprisingly savage growl rippled from his throat.

It made my heart skip a beat by how cold he sounded; the venomous tone chilled my blood to ice.

Destruction clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Young nephew, there is no need for such animosity. I have only come here to negotiate the terms of my rule. Surrender the universe to me, and all will be well. If not… I’ll need you to surrender one of your teammates, or I shall simply keep these precious hunters for my own personal… entertainment.”

Something inside of me snapped. “You will do _no such thing_!” I shouted, only held back by the efforts of Athena and Apollo together. Even then, they struggled to keep me still.

My outburst only drew his eyes to me, lazily, as if I were nothing more than an annoying insect buzzing around his head. “Oh. Such fire I see in her soul. Nephew, is this one yours? She seems just your type.”

Abaddon growled again. “Leave her out of this,” he said. “It’s me you want, isn’t it?”

“Not so,” Destruction said. “Now, I have my eye on a greater prize, and I believe I have the perfect bait.” His eyes roved over my form, leaving me to shudder in disgust. My stomach rolled uncomfortably, bile scratching at the base of my esophagus.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” I declared, trying to sound brave despite the terror that gripped my heart with cold black fingers. My confidence wavered slightly as his smile only widened.

“You must, unless of course, you wish for your precious huntresses to die.”

With a careless swish of his hand, Kampê lowered her poison-coated scimitars into the cage. A few drops of liquid fell, precisely placed so they missed my beautiful sisters, only to land on the metal bottom of the cage, eliciting a hiss and a stream of smoke with each drop. Slowly, she moved her blades closer… and closer…

“Stop!” I took a step forward, fighting against my siblings’ restraining hands. “I’ll go! Just… please let them go.” I would normally never resort to begging, especially not to a man, _especially_ not to a crazed psychopath, but my hunters were my life, and without them, I had no reason to continue my immortal existence. Tears prickled my eyes – the acid of my sorrow, like the poison of Kampê’s weapons.

My family, knowing the severity of my decision, let me go. I stepped forward. Only one more hand was daring enough to stop me, and as I turned, for a second, I thought I was looking at Percy. I saw his black hair, his green eyes so filled with emotion–

Alas, it was not him. I snapped out of my daydream to meet Abaddon’s face – his mask, more precisely.

With his hand on my shoulder and his gaze fixed on his uncle, he said in a strong, firm voice, so convincing that I believed him without a doubt: “You will not by taking anyone. Not from here. I will go with you, uncle, willingly, if you free the hunters this instant and recall your monstrous ranks from this sacred camp.” I could not see his eyes, but perhaps that was a boon. The glare he could’ve given, just based on the tone of his voice, would in itself be monstrous.

“I agree by your terms,” Destruction said, with a smile on his face, resembling halfway between a sneer and a smirk. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but not the typical Styx thunder. It was darker, duller, almost like thunder from another planet, so loud that we could hear it down here. “Grab him,” the evil one said, and one of his soldiers moved forward hastily to comply.

Just as the monster’s hand was about to touch him, Abaddon lifted his sword. It gave off a mysterious glow, different from his Voidfyre, but still awe– and fear-inspiring.

“The hunters first,” he demanded. His voice was ice and his words sharp as the scimitars in Kampê’s hands, before she tossed them to the ground, the blades burying into the earth.

Destruction’s smirk faltered, only slightly, before it resumed its position on his face and he gestured again. Instead of letting them go free, Kampê grabbed the bars of the cage with her sharp claws and flew upward – quickly.

First thirty, then forty, then fifty feet into the air, she continued to rise, my hunters in tow, all still unaware of the danger they faced. My heart palpitated rapidly in my chest, as if bouncing throughout my entire torso, then into my arms, my legs, my head. I felt faint at the thought of my huntresses falling from such a height. Kampê was surely one hundred feet up by now, and if she let go…

“You want me to let them go?” Destruction asked. “I’ll let them go.”

Kampê dropped them and my heart leapt out of my throat. Someone screamed. Maybe it was me, but I couldn’t tell as I watched – horror-struck – my hunters plummet toward the cold, unforgiving earth below.

Abaddon snarled. “Well, uncle, as you have changed the terms of our agreement, allow me to do the same. I will surrender to you, only if you catch me first.” His wings snapped open, and he launched into the air, his body a blur as he shot toward my huntresses.

Immediately every monster that could fly was in the air, chasing after him. They dove and spun and followed his erratic rhythm, and though he had a set destination, none could pluck him from the air.

I tilted my head back, eyes following his course, or at least trying to. He was so fast that not even I could keep up with him, and my family had no more luck. I only saw him for a split second – when he landed on the cage.

He grabbed it, much like Kampê had, but it seemed too heavy and dragged them both down. My heart fell with them.

“It’s slowing down!” Apollo announced, causing me to look back up from my sulking. They were, indeed. I grinned. Abaddon hadn’t been _falling_ , he’d been slowing them down. By the time the cage touched down in the grass, it was just barely moving, and, like a cloud, gently brushed against the ground.

Abaddon, quickly landing beside it, drew his sword and, with one swing, chopped the lock clean off the front. It opened, and the hunters – as if freed from the effects of a spell – awoke, looking up with confusion swimming in their blurry eyes.

“This way, my hunters,” I coaxed from behind the line of angels.

They stood, hesitantly, and made their way out of the cage, single file as the monsters stood motionless around them. Everyone was watching with keen eyes as they joined my side and a smile lit up my face upon seeing their undamaged condition.

There was little time for celebration, however, as the monsters still attacked. He shot into the air, forcing them to change direction once again and low growls of frustration. He clashed with a few in the air, his blade moving through them fluidly. Monster dust showered out heads; I cringed; ‘Disgusting,’ I thought.

A few fireballs burst forth from his hands, and exploded into vast fireworks, awing us in the crowd below. A few more, then a bolt of lightning, and all but Kampê had been turned to dust. Abaddon flew higher, higher, higher, until he was nothing more than a speck even to my keen eyes. I nearly called for his triumph, but it wasn’t over yet, and his exhaustion was showing.

He’d already used a lot of energy during his and my fight, when he’d slowed time for the benefit of showing off – yes, I did notice that. And now, fighting and flying must take a lot of energy, though I can only imagine. He was exhausted.

He was a fireball himself as he fell, somehow falling faster than was typical for a man his size and weight. He was a rocket re-entering orbit, fire pressing around him on all sides though he didn’t burn up on the way. What had he flown so high? Was this his plan?

None of the monsters moved to catch him, fearing the flames. Like a human comet, he landed, bringing Hell on earth.

The explosion that announced his touchdown was less so than the one of his angels’ initial appearance, though it was pretty close. Smoke erupted from the ground, dirt was kicked up, and no doubt a crater had formed beneath him.

Kampê dove down, into the dust cloud, and only emerged when she had Abaddon’s ankle firmly in her claws, holding him unceremoniously and with great pride. She paraded him around over her shoulder – the most powerful warrior caught in her clutches; what a momentous occasion!

Destruction smirked. The dust had cleared, and Kampê brought Abaddon’s limp body, tossing it to the villain’s feet. His laugh was the only sound that reverberated through the clearing. All others were silent, I doubt the angels even dared to breathe.

They disappeared. All of the monsters, just like that. There was no flash, no light – it was not teleportation. They just…faded from existence, taking Abaddon with them.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2120**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	20. Wear a Mask for Too Long and You May Forget Who You Are Underneath

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

In hindsight, we should have done something – anything! – to stop our only hope of defeating Destruction be taken… by Destruction! I mean, surely, we could’ve done something. I’m not the strongest, I admit to that, but even _I_ could have at least distracted him enough, or we could’ve taken down the army and allowed Abaddon to challenge his uncle. He probably could take him on with our help if he was one of the most powerful beings in the universe, especially with his angels at his side.

I don’t even know _why_ we just stood there. Or the commanders of that army. They just stood there doing _nothing_! Then again, I know nothing about their practices or the way they do things on Cofando, so maybe… that agreement to free my hunters had to be respected? They changed the terms, sure, but there was that thunder to seal their exchange.

Right after he was taken, father called a meeting. Everyone immediately teleported to the throne room, and I mean _everyone_. The gods, of course, major and minor, either sat in their thrones or in smaller, temporary thrones around the room. Then, there were the demigods – Greek and Roman – who were strewn on couches that my father summoned. The Amazons were similarly sitting, though inhabited two couches, all sitting with their queen, who was deep in thought. The army commanders lounged as well, not looking particularly worried on the outside, but I could hear their increased heart rates – however well-hidden they were. My hunters, of course, were at my side, recovered from the most recent dangerous encounter with our enemy, and even a few nature spirits were milling around aimlessly, hoping for some explanation as to what was going on.

I was sitting in my throne, silent as a mouse, my mouth was the sealed lid of Pandora’s box – and I felt as if opening it to speak would only spew forth the internal hatred and scolding I was giving myself for letting Abaddon be taken by our enemy. It was my fault, after all; I just knew it. He had been taken – he’d surrendered himself to save _my_ hunters, instead of letting Destruction take me. I should’ve done something to help him, but what? I couldn’t just let myself be captured; he surely wouldn’t have agreed to that, and there was no arguing with him – he was far too stubborn for that, and this was coming from me! At least I _knew_ I was stubborn.

As my thoughts continued to wander and my train of thought derailed, a single question rose to the surface of my mind. _“Why would he sacrifice himself to a man he hated so much…for me?”_ I knew that he’d come originally to save us from his uncle’s invasion, but from only that brief encounter, I could sense the unadulterated disdain he held for that man. He was disowned from family – the entity of evil incarnate – and yet, Abaddon would willingly go with him as a prisoner to save my hunters’ and my life.

Who other than Perseus – the greatest of all men I’d come across – had such a wealthy reserve of loyalty? Surely not this man who’d I’d only met days ago? I knew not the face that rested under his silver mask, but how could he, a male – a creature of an ilk who I’d sworn hatred to – sacrifice his life for one he knew felt for his kind only dislike?

In my aggravation, I let a soft groan to pass my lips, letting loose my inner turmoil. Why was I getting so wound up? My heart was beating faster than normal; I was in distress, but was it just because I let guilty? Was this poison in my gut guilt for allowing a male to give his life for mine? Was it a pain to my pride for being saved like a helpless damsel from men’s fairy tales? Or was it something else? I did not know, but I feared finding out.

My only comfort came from knowing that Abaddon would almost positively make it out alive, though that only brought my thoughts back around to the knowledge that his malevolent uncle was torturing him for information, which obviously, he wouldn’t give without a fight.

We’d learned that fact only shortly after appearing in the throne room, as Haetros – his life companion and the one connected in all but body to him – fell to the marble floor and began to convulse in pure and utter agony, His fur matted in the blood spilling forth from one thousand cuts appearing on his body all at once. A tinge of green marred the red, leading me to believe that poison was involved, the venomous snake in his uncle’s soul coming forth in painfully clear ways.

What frightened me most was that Haetros, though appearing to be suffering, felt no pain. He writhed, but no sounds of discomfort, nor affliction left his glossy black lips. There was only sorrow in his eyes; they held not pain of the physical kind, but emotional, knowing that his soul-bonded brother was hurting, and he could do nothing to stop it.

After the first few minutes of no plan and a whole lot of yelling, the angels started to go absolutely crazy. Insanity was a word for it, but I feared labelling it as that would make it true. Before they’d calmly sat, one messaging their leaders with a strange-looking device, and the others working on their own rescue mission.

(At least, that’s what I thought, seeing as they were speaking a language that I could not understand nor even attempt to follow.)

The signal didn’t go through, as it appeared, because the messenger – a man by the name of Constantine, I think – was bashing his device with the hilt of his knife, going to old fashioned route of trying to make it work. Good to know things haven’t changed. Perhaps Destruction had found a way to block their transmissions.

Normally, when a leader was felled or taken, the men and women of lower rank would rejoice as it was a chance to step and take command for themselves, but this army was a team, and dare I say it, a family, if their panicked personas were anything to go by.

Still, with their leader missing, the second in command, Proteus, was forced to take the mantle, and I could tell, even without looking, that he hated it. The stiff posture he’d assumed, along with his grim tone as he intimated to his team their next course of action. His words, though foreign to me, were hastened with urgency and concern, but the meaning was clear. However, I heard no mention of Abaddon’s name; he used another, obviously a name, but with such a strong accent that I couldn’t place it.

A final flash of light pulled me from my thoughts. Had we been expecting anyone else? Was someone missing? I thought not, but then again, there were so many gods, demigods, and other immortal beings out there that it was nearly impossible to keep track of. I mean, why did they need so many kids, anyway? I couldn’t even imagine having _one_ , and my own father has sired over thousands of children during his centuries.

I looked up, and my eyes widened.

Standing before us was Poseidon. I hadn’t seen him in over five years – not in person, anyway, he hardly left his room these days, much less his palace – but I recognized that slight, wafting scene of sea salt anywhere, despite not fully registering the man that had just appeared in the room.

He was a corpse before us, arisen from the depths of Hades’ realm like he wished his son could be. His hair had turned to grey, and the dead look in his eyes told much. They seemed to be replaced by orbs of glass, reminiscent of the previous oracle before Perseus’ friend, Miss Dare, took up the mantle. The joyous sparkle that he’d passed onto his son had dissipated, like the final moments of Perseus’ death, when he’d lost everything – his world – to darkness.

His depressing eyes moved slowly over the throne room, the place where his son had died. They stopped briefly at the very spot on the floor where Percy had been lying, but quickly moved on to ward off the tears gathering. His expression was one of pure sorrow, and apart from giving me the need to dissolve into tears myself, I wondered why in the name of my father he decided to appear here and now.

Pulling my eyes away from my distraught uncle, I saw the grief in my other family’s eyes as well, all in sympathy for Poseidon.

Hestia rose to comfort her younger brother, though it seemed not even her great powers of affection could console his anguish. The only person, it seemed, who could end Poseidon’s grief, was gone forever, body and soul.

We still hatred ourselves for what happened to young Perseus, and seeing his father suffer for it only deepened our guilt. Poseidon had sired many children throughout the years, but he always seemed to love Perseus the most. Percy had been his pride and joy – his perfect son. Without any children of my own, it was hard to imagine what it must’ve felt like for him. His own child had died knowing – or thinking that he knew – that his own father hated him with such passion as to be the first god to ever disown their own child… Poseidon had done what no other god had ever done. He’d stripped his lineage, his blood and power, from that boy and left him to rot in his own misery.

Poseidon moved slowly, an old man in his immortal body, and sat in his throne, a hunk of the dead, grey coral, and so, the meeting began – officially.

Father began to speak. “Today, we are here to discuss-”

Poor father: he never had a chance to finish as a sudden gleeful yell from Proteus cut him off. Their strange device must’ve worked because a swirl of black mist had appeared in front of him and created an image of a man and woman. It was quite blurry, and only in black and white, most likely due to the interference.

“My lord! My lady!” he called through the mist. On the other side seemed to be an office, as the man and woman were sitting at a large desk, though nothing else of the room was visible. From my throne, I couldn’t tell much about what they looked like, but, as was obvious by their titles, they were Chaos and Order.

“Why have you called us?” the woman asked. Her concern seemed to have expanded far beyond mine, just from picking up the panicked tone of Proteus’ voice.

“Abaddon has been taken. During our training, the hunters were taken – ambushed – by Destruction’s forces. He saved them, but only by trading himself to suffer the wrath of his uncle. Destruction is torturing, most likely for information about our army, identities, and weaknesses.” The terror in his voice was very real. The thought of losing his leader must be taking its toll.

“How long had he been gone?” she asked.

“Almost half an hour now,” Proteus replied. Had it been that long?

“Why did you not tell us sooner?” the man cut in, his voice forceful, but only powered by fear.

Constantine let out an aggravated sigh as the connection cut out, then returned. “We think Destruction is interfering with our communications, sir and madam, as you can see by the quality of our transmission.”

The man turned to the woman. “Order, I shall go to earth to deal with this issue. However, I fear with you to keep my in check, my darling, I might accidentally sneeze and destroy one of Jupiter’s moons. Then again, I always thought that it had too many moons anyway.

The woman – Order – nodded, but it seemed that her fear for her son’s safety outweighed her husband’s humorous attempt to cheer her up, as she forced a laugh, but nothing more. Her concern for her son was far too great.

Wait. Was Abaddon even their son? Surely, he was, as he was their heir?

The man, who I assumed to be Chaos by process of elimination, turned back to Proteus. “I will be there soon. And expect Nisí to be with me,” he said. “In the meantime, I suggest revealing your identities to the Olympians now, so that Destruction has no advantages in future battles. If he discovers your secrets and finds it keen to reveal them, we cannot have anyone be surprised.” Then, the message disappeared.

Not a second later, probably because of the time difference between the worlds – somehow normalized by the message? – Chaos appeared alongside a girl wearing a similar cloak to the others, though hers was white. A medical badge was attached to the front like a broach, holding the cloak together over her shoulders.

Now seeing him properly, instead of through the mist image, I was astounded. He was deeply tanned, and his robes almost melded with them, if not for the purple trim along the sleeve’s edges. His hair, reminding me painfully of Percy’s, was black, and despite its short length, stuck up sporadically, like he’d just rolled out of bed. (Strange look for a ruler of the universe, but who was I to judge him?)

“Now, I would normally tell you to reveal yourselves in a chaotic manner, but I think it best that you do it in order,” he said with a sly grin.

The angels all groaned.

Had one of the creators of the universe just made a pun? An obvious pun at that? I was so preoccupied with this fact that I didn’t even notice that Proteus had stepped forward until he said, “Before my rebirth, I was known as Luke Castellan.”

My heart stopped. He was dead? Were they all dead? Is that how Chaos and Order got their soldiers? Did they ravage the areas of rest for souls on each of the planets? They gave new life to these spirits so that they may fight an eternal war, how could anyone agree to that? Wait. Was it even an agreement?

I was completely lost on the fact of _who_ he actually was until Hermes ran forward to crush his long-thought dead son in a hug. His lips moved obsessively, whispering something in Proteus- Luke’s ear. It might’ve been, “I’m sorry,” or “I love you,” or “Why do rubber ducks float if they’re so heavy?” I didn’t know; I couldn’t hear it. (I did still wonder, though.)

Luke seemed shocked. Given his reaction, he must’ve expected less than a warm welcome – probably in the face of his previous crimes against Olympus. However, eventually, he smiled and embraced his father.

Hester then took her turn. I swear she looked over at me, but then again, maybe it was just the lighting. She spoke, “As a member of the army, I am known as Hester, but my true name is Zoë Nightshade.” She revealed her face and this time, not only did my heart skip a beat, I think it dropped into my stomach.

Tears came to my eyes as salted ghosts of my love and care for this girl during her time in my circle. With grace, I seemed to fly out of my throne and across the room to wrap her in a similarly tight hold. She’d been my companion for centuries and then taken away from me. Though I’d placed her soul into the stars, I felt that some part of me had failed her, and seeing her, here – that was enough to force sobs from my chest.

Her wings felt like those of a stranger to my hands on her back. Around us, the hunters gathered excitedly to greet their lost sister, but I barely noticed their presence. I was far too focused on the immortal girl in front of me. How could I have not guessed it sooner? It was so obvious! Her specialty, her accent, her mannerisms – all were nearly screaming her name, but it hadn’t even crossed my mind! How could it have? For all I knew, she was forever hunting in the sky. Now, she was doing the same, but understandably a lot higher off earth’s surface than the ozone.

“I missed you so much, Zoë,” I whispered. My voice broke slightly.

“I’ve missed you as well, my lady.”

She still spoke in formal tones, though her accent was not as strong as it had been, and during her many years on Cofando and otherwise, she must’ve been given speech lessons, as modern language now seemed to be in her repertoire.

Bianca di Angelo showed her face next, another of my dead hunters; she was known as Seraphina. With her hood removed, I saw her face and could barely believe it. Even as she stood, older than before – both she and Zoë had been physically aged to sixteen – she was the same. Less shy, less unsure, but the same.

Nico di Angelo was wide-eyed at his sister. I knew that he thought she’d chosen rebirth, for she wasn’t in the underworld – neither, in fact, were the others. Did their souls indeed go to renewed bodies? In that case, had they taken Percy’s soul. Was that why he wasn’t anywhere to be found?

“Bianca?” the young boy – now older than his older sister – asked. He had tears running down his cheeks, leaving trails, and he stood, side by side with one of my brother’s sons, who was rubbing a hand over the shorter boy’s frozen shoulder.

Suddenly, he ran forward, threw himself into his sister’s arms, and began to sob. His chest heaved and ugly-sounding gasps rang forth, but it didn’t matter. His sister was back, after years of never seeing her, never knowing if she was alright.

After her, Adara and Caminus – a couple stepping forward with wedding rings adorning their fingers – were revealed to be Charles Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard, though Silena had taken her husband’s name.

Hephaestus gave his son a smile and Aphrodite came running forward, fussing about Silena’s fashion choices and babbling incessantly about how glad she was that her daughter was back.

Belen and Jace were – obviously – two sons of my brother, revealed as Michael Yew and Lee Fletcher. They’d both died in the battle against Kronos, as I was led to believe. They spoke together, starting and finishing each other’s sentences. They were as close as twins. Were they twins? No… they had different last names; they couldn’t be related by mortal rules, let alone twins. It sure seemed like it, though.

Vinum’s previous name was Castor, and he was one of Dionysus’ twin sons, while Constantine… The spy of the army… was Ethan Nakamura, a boy I’d heard of from Perseus as a snake, though he’d redeemed himself in the end.

Finally, the newcomer, Nisí, stepped forward. “I am the Head healer for Cofando, and while the others are field medics, I never go into battle. My name before this was Calypso.”

Jason Grace stared at her. “And Leo? Is he in your undead army, too?”

Calypso smiled fondly. “My husband works in the forge, yes.”

“Husband, hm? Good for him,” Piper said slyly. She leaned up to kiss Jason, their hands clasping tightly.

Everyone was dead in this army – brought back to life – without fail, besides perhaps Calypso, as she was already immortal. Could that mean that _everyone_ in the army was the same? Were they all from Earth? Surely not, but it seemed like too much of a coincidence that _all_ of the commanders were, so perhaps Abaddon was, as well? I grew excited at the prospect, my heart secretly hoping against all hope that my guess was correct. All of the others felt the same; I could sense it.

Luke turned to his lord after all of their identities were unveiled. “Abaddon was captured only recently, but from Haetros, we already know that he had been inflicted a great deal of pain and damage. He was saving Artemis’ hunters, who’d been held hostage, and exhausted himself by getting them to safety.”

“My son is strong, but we must make haste. Order would not forgive me if our son did not make it. She is especially fond of him.”

That was unclear. Was he their real son, or like a son to them? I did not know, but if the latter, I had an idea and anticipated the answer, hoping for confirmation.

Chaos closed his eyes, a look of concentration and determination crossing his face. He stayed silent and still for several minutes before he deflated, crestfallen. “I cannot find him. Despite all my power, my brother has amassed enough strength to hide him from me. The best I can do in open a window, but not pinpoint his location.” He looked down. “I wish not to see what is happening, but… at the same time, it is all I can do to wait for your answers.”

“Please open the window. He is our leader; we need to know how his condition,” Zoë said. She seemed concerned, and I detected another emotion underneath, a fondness hidden well, but not entirely. My eyes narrowed curiously. What was her relation to the son of the creators?

A shadow of confliction fell upon Chaos’ expression, but at Luke’s insistence, he clicked his fingers, and a large screen of shadows appeared. “We will be able to see him in a moment but brace yourselves. Any of you who wish to leave may do so now. I fear you will not be comfortable with his condition, nor the surprises that await you beyond this window,” he warned.

Several demigods left. They probably got queasy at the sight of blood. I was more curious than anything else and even leaned in from my place next to Zoë. What shock were we destined to behold?

Colours faded into the screen, showing earth in deep space, then the image zoomed and whirled far, far off into the distant darkness. It twisted, turned, looped, and jogged before coming to a stop in a dark room.

As our eyes adjusted, and the image on the screen lightened, we saw a horrifying sight.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 3735**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	21. Heroes Will Rise Again

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

I’m not entirely certain that gods experience the same emotions as mortals. We are, in fact, very similar, as Prometheus modelled humans after us, but humankind was always known to us for its rudimentary design in mental and emotional states.

That’s not to say that human emotions are any less than ours, only different. Gods, as immortal beings, feel less attachment to people and places, which I think is because of our lack of need for personal connections. Sure, we have our interconnectedness of family, but being alone doesn’t affect us as much; we don’t feel the need to make new connections, nor the instinctual search for a mate that humans feel. (Though my family finds the illogical need for fraternizing with mortals and having demigods every which way.)

Looking back on it, in my early years as an immortal, I was cold – distant, even. My hunters at the time were followers. That was it. Sure, we lived together, bathed together, camped together, but I never really got to know them personally. I learned of their lives before my hunt and knew of their preferences and interests, but for me, it was just a cumulation of facts. I did not see the complex web of pieces to put them into a human shape.

Living with the hunters for the millennia of my immortal life has definitely changed me in that fashion. My perspective is much more… well, more, one could say. I can connect the dots – I know the names of my hunters – I always have – but after living with them for so long – becoming one of them, truly, I can anticipate their thoughts and emotions. I was cold before, I’ve said that, but after experiencing the world through their eyes, with the wonder and joy, sorrow and pain, I see the way a mortal sees.

I still do not know if this is the same for my brethren or sisterhood of the immortal variety, however, I wish it was true. Since learning the inner workings of human emotion, I feel whole. I am not an empty shell of a person – a creature who grows and changes based on their primitive beliefs of my character. I may choose for myself a path, an image, an _identity_ that I claim as my own.

And yet, with all this, some emotions are still new. They still surprise me when they bubble to the surface.

As was the immense, heart-wrenching pain that nearly folded me in half as I laid my eyes upon the hapless form of Abaddon in the image of Chaos’ creation.

He was chained, stripped of his uniform, and hanging limply on a wall of shadows. The scruffy grey trousers covered but little of his flesh, only to keep him from being in a state of undress, though providing no comfort or protection against the obvious cold of his enemy’s dungeon. I think, even his mask was removed but I could not be certain as his head was down. All I could see was the mess of hair upon his head; it was the rusty burgundy of blood, and though I could not defer which colour it had been before, I hoped against hope itself that it was black, for it was dark beneath the surface tresses.

He hung low on the wall, kneeling before us on a floor of thorns – a grim symbol of his fall from the precipice of Fortune’s Wheel. Now, Destruction took his stance of dominance, his prospects rising with his hated nephew in his gruesome grip. The dark angel could not escape, alas, as I noted the state of his feet; the flesh of his soles was thickly caked in blood. Obviously, Destruction had maimed them, but how? What grisly idea had sprung to his mind? Would they ever heal, or would he never walk again? _‘Surely,’_ I thought, _‘He would recover’_.

Similarly, the rest of him was frightfully damaged, in the form of burns and deep gashes that littered his chest as bodies do on the battlefield. His once strong wings were frail, broken representations of his treatment nearly plucked clean of feathers and redressed of its missing plumage with both a fresh and dried coating of blood.

My heart – once thought to me as a useless organ – jolted pivotally in my chest. It shrunk back in fear of the outside world, quivering from its safe haven within my ribcage, but even within the deep recesses of my torso, it was not safe from the horror and realization running through my mind. _‘That should be me.’_ It was all I could think – the only thought I could procure from the turmoil within my head. _‘I should be the one in that cell, the one at the mercy of Destruction’s maniacal whims. It should be me.’_ His sacrifice was one of which words could not express, in likeness to the gratitude I felt for him. No human words could describe the relief that washed over me; it was as otherworldly as the men before me.

With a quick glance at my father, I saw similar gratitude carried in his own eyes. He, too, had imagined me as the defenceless creature hanging as a prisoner to the incarnate of evil himself. If not for the dark angel’s bravery and self-sacrifice, my lowly godhood would be stripped by the being of a higher power, and I would surely have faded into the Void from the existence of agony.

Suddenly, the door to the cell opened, emitting entry to Destruction himself. He walked forward with a demonic grin, though Abaddon made no move. He remained still as a corpse, reposing in its grave.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,” he said, his tone almost mocking.

“A line of Shakespeare’s. You flatter me in your quotations.”

“Is it not true, nephew of mine? Do you not feel burdened by this power that has been granted you?”

“Not at all. I take this burden with open arms. My shoulders are ever light in my duties.” Though his words were cryptic, they did not match the strain in his voice, obviously an effect of his physical pain.

“I fear that is not the case, nephew. Might I offer you a relief to your pains as I imagine you feel? Some herbal salve? You seem to have sustained a bit of damage from our previous conversations.”

“Oh, shut up, you sarcastic son of a-!”

His insult, however obvious as it was, never finished; Destruction cut him off with a disapproving click of his tongue.

“Watch your language, young man! I will not have my prestigious nephew come into my home to utter such blasphemy in my presence! Did your mother teach you nothing in the ways of common courtesy?”

“As a matter of fact, she did.”

Finally, Abaddon looked up and –

Sweet Chaos and Order. He had –

Eyes of seafoam.

And hair – so black it out the night to shame.

I knew that face, those eyes, that nose, those cheekbones. I had studied a face such as his intently, with concern and longing and respect for many of my immortal years. I felt an emotion that humans would refer to as endearment for this male; his mannerisms toward me and my hunters earned him thus.

It was the one and the only male in all of my immortal life I had come to respect. There had been others, of course; many mortals have heard the tales of Orion – before his fall – and perhaps Hippolytos the prince, my great friend and hunting companion, but none compared to this man I saw before me.

It was Perseus Jackson.

Percy. The man who saved me, my hunters, my family, and the entirety of the world so many times. He was the one that died for us – his life meant nothing if not in service of us, and we let him down. He had single-handedly brought the Olympians together as a family, something no man, no _one_ had ever managed, but Percy, of course, was always the exception.

He, also, was the only man I ever… the only one I felt love for.

I heard a cry. It was something along the lines of “No! Percy!” but I wasn’t sure who yelled it. Maybe it was me, but I felt as if my mouth – and every other part of me, was frozen in pure shock and unsubstantial terror.

“M-my son…” Poseidon all but whimpered these words from his throne, where he watched the proceeding in a heartbroken mien. It was, for the first time in five years, that the sea god had spoken.

Wet tears eclipsed my eyes; my vision was swimming to that Percy was out of my view, and I desperately tried to blink them away but found my efforts in vain. Others around me seemed to be in similar states of distress, but apart from my own misery, I was blind, and could not tell the disposition of the room if I were to recall it at a later date.

“Who is that?”

My heart nearly stuttered with rage at the innocent question, for it was one that should never have been asked. It was one of the newer campers, one who hadn’t heard of the stories of Perseus, or perhaps, had heard of him, but could not put a name to a face, or otherwise.

She was one of the demigods who arrived at camp after Percy had died, obviously, but I could not place her face, nor did I care, for she was of Aphrodite’s brood and wholly expressed her opinions of hunting and abstinence when she first arrived on the arm of a strong son of Hephaestus.

It was I who answered her, my voice surprisingly calm and steady as I spoke the words that I never thought I’d say in the rest of my immortal life: “That is Percy Jackson, the Saviour of Olympus.”

I heard only gasps from around me – all new campers who were neglected in knowing him, but not in the telling of his stories and legends around the evening campfire.

Our attention was restored to the screen by the sickening echo of a slap sounded. His head snapped to the side.

“How _dare_ you say such things to me?” Destruction’s vexation was clear, despite the uncertainty of Percy’s crime.

Percy only scowled in return; he spat blood at Destruction’s feet. “And yet, with all your power, you can do nothing to stop me. The voices in my head allow me to speak, however not the words you wish for.”

“Address me again, but with the respect I deserve, I am your uncle, your jailor, and your master.”

In an act of pure childishness – that is the only way to describe such a foolish act – Percy thrust his tongue from between his lips. The muscle was still bloody and yet, as mature as Percy had become, he could not resist such action of disrespect. Quickly, he retracted it, as Destruction lashed out with a gloved hand.

“Stick that blasted tongue out at me again and I’ll cut it off. Do you hear me?”

Percy glared but remained still and quiet.

Destruction’s grin returned. “Was that so hard, my boy? Not at all, I see! Good! Now, I am feeling generous today: tell me the loophole, so I can grant you a quick death.”

Percy snarled. "Do you really think that I would tell you how to bypass the ancient laws? For a quick death? No. I would rather die a thousand gruesome deaths than ever betray their trust." The growling he emitted was one of a wild beast’s at best – what had become of him in the five years since his death? Had he become half man, half monster?

The march of army ants rose up my spine in the only way I knew fear could. Percy was the same, yet different. The real question is – how much different?

“I know that of you, dear nephew – better than anyone. ‘Tis an annoying trait to have, though I am more than willing to accommodate you. You seem to forget that I can see into your soul. I know just the way to hurt you – _truly_ hurt you. It is nothing physical pain can lay upon you, nor anything I, nor my servants, may achieve, for you have already received the _ultimate_ punishment, haven’t you?”

What was he talking about? Surely not-!

“Their betrayal is fresh in your mind – like the day it happened, is that not true? It is always renewed, always lingering – such is the burden of your great power? Such trauma as your first death can linger for the rest of your years. And so many years you have laid out before you. It would be but a balm to gift you with the sweet release of death – to gift you passage to the Void. I shall not do that, for your pain causes me pleasure. The more pain you feel, the more content is my heart. And is it not true that with every second, it just gets worse…and worse?” Destruction sneered.

Those words were lead weights set upon my chest, constricting my breath to pants and wheezes. Percy still felt the pain. Every day. Of course, he would. How could I be so foolish as to think he’d forgotten? Something of that sort could never be forgotten, even if bathed in the Lethe, some form of it would linger; he would never be free of its burden. My tears flowed faster.

Tangibly, I could feel the guilt radiating around me. My own, Poseidon’s, the campers’, the gods’, even the angels’ – somehow? Did they need to feel guilty? What could they have done to feel this way? Had they never known? Had they not believed him?

“My dear nephew, I’m beginning to think that you will never cooperate with my wishes-”

“You got that right!”

Destruction growled at the interruption. “However, there is another use for you. You obviously will not share the information I seek, and I’m growing rather bored of these heartfelt speeches you feel the need to press upon me. Perhaps I shall use a different method to get what I want? And you shall be the key.” His cryptic musings elicited a laugh from his vile throat.

“I’ll never do anything for you!” Percy’s voice held steady, though I felt a shake in his stature. He was afraid – afraid of what Destruction had in mind for him.

Destruction stood before Percy with that same horrid smirk as earlier. "Oh, but I think you will, dear nephew," he said. In a single, portentous movement, he drove his hand through Percy's chest. And Percy screamed.

He screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

His body convulsed around the intruding limb, which tore through the flesh, muscle, and bone of his ribcage, directly to his heart. I could only imagine the agony Percy must’ve felt, as the sensation of one grabbing my own heart washed over me. Fingers pressed in upon my life-giving organ, constricting my breathing and making my heart spin as though it were a child’s top. I nearly screamed myself but felt the air catch in my throat. Destruction was holding his heart in his hand, while Percy, metaphorically, held mine.

I wondered: were they others feeling this way? Did they feel what Percy felt? Did their bodies also empathize with his pain – however dimmed it was through our connection?

Haetros, it seemed, was the only one. He howled in despair – the only sound that he could produce as he, too, writhed on the marble.

Percy was mumbling now, “No… No, no, no, no, _no!”_ It grew into a savage growl, words no longer coming as he tore himself away, thrashing like a wild creature against Destruction’s efforts. He howled, his voice melding with Haetros’, and Destruction backed away in horror.

Did _he_ know what was going on?

A split second later, Destruction struck again, this time, at Percy’s head. The force knocked Percy’s head back, hitting the stone wall. He fell forward, the chains being the only things keep him elevated.

Destruction only grinned and tried again. He raised his left hand – as he was left-handed, it seemed. His nails grew to needle-like points, tipped in shady poison.

“No!” Chaos cried, but it was too late. With a swift motion, Destruction injected the poison, and blackness spread over Percy visage. His skin faded, turning pale, then ashen grey. Veins of black ran along his body, from the tips of his mangled toes to the bloodstained raven locks. Chaos stumbled, nearly falling to his knees. “No…”

Poseidon, who had only just left his palace, who had only just spoken, who had only just learned that _his son was alive_ , broke down one again. He could do nothing but stare at the lifeless form of his son – ex-son, that is.

Destruction leaned in, looking into Percy’s face, which we couldn’t see. “Oh? What do we have here? Lift your face, let me see you.”

Though Percy himself was clearly unconscious, his head lifted. His eyes were not black, as one would expect of the poison, but instead, bright, crystal blue. His skin was back to its pale pigmentation and the veins had vanished. I jerked back, confused. How? Who? When? What was going on?

“Who commands your body?” Destruction asked. His eyes glowed, though only for a moment, before he spoke. “Very interesting. Your mind is far more complex than I originally anticipated.”

The voice that came from Percy’s mouth next was not his. “Indeed, Destruction. It is far more complex than even yours. We may share this body, but Perseus and I are separate. Take one of us, if you dare, but not even you have enough poison for more than a single soul within its given body.”

His challenge drove the sneer from Destruction’s face, in its place, horrified realization appeared.

“You… cannot be… You aberration! Vile creature of the darkest hellhole! If I cannot take your will, I shall toss you into the pit for all eternity, where you will _rot_!”

Percy pulled his arm forward. Rising to his feet before Destruction – the adrenaline rush not accounting for his damaged feet – the chains shattered. The sea-green of his eyes had returned, but not before shifting to red, back to blue, then to yellow in quick succession. He launched himself forward, hands wrapping around Destruction’s throat. Both of their bodies, together, slammed into the opposing wall, and Percy lifted his enemy above the ground. In pure, unadulterated hatred, he said, “Do not _ever_ enter my mind.”

“Until next time, dear nephew,” Destruction replied. His voice faded along with his body, vanishing from Percy’s grasp. I saw Percy then collapse, the pain finally taking it toll.

It was only in our fortunes that with Destruction gone, his mental block of Chaos’ powers disappeared with him, and the immortal in question was able to teleport to Percy’s location without fail. He collected his _son_ just as the boy’s eyes rolled back in his head.

They disappeared from the cell but did not immediately reappear in the throne room. Where could they be? I did not know. All we could do was wait in anticipation for their return.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 3220**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	22. Guess Who's Back?

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

Our wait was not long, as both Chaos and Percy reappeared in the throne room – exactly where the creator of the universe had been standing previously, mere minutes after vanishing from Destruction’s lair. My mind briefly touched upon the question of where they’d been during those few minutes, but at the moment, the thought was pushed to the back of my mind. Worry for Percy took up the forefront.

It was only when Percy was physically in front of me that I could see the extent of his injuries. They were graphic – too graphic to describe because all I could think was _“Oh my gods, on my gods, oh my gods…”_ That didn’t leave much room for cataloguing the hero’s considerable list of maladies.

With a curt nod of his head, Chaos summoned a medical table in front of him to place Percy’s limp body upon. His healers immediately swarmed around it – Calypso, Lee, Michael, even my brother Apollo jumped forward to examine him. A few of my nieces and nephews lingered nearby, just out of the way of the experts, but on standby, if needed.

No one could see what was going on past their crowded bodies, me included, but I heard them call for fresh hot water and towels and bandages – so with my limited knowledge of healing, I pieced together that they were cleaning and sterilizing his wounds to be wrapped. I saw one Apollo camper walk away carrying several large jagged spikes on a tray, but my ichor had long since run cold in my veins. Icicles flowed through my body, bringing neither warmth nor oxygen to my godly organs.

Somehow, I found myself seated at his side, holding one of his heavily bandaged hands. I clasped tightly to the spongy layers of gauze and elastic, my eyes never leaving his bruised and battered face.

I sighed. He’d been through so much in his life, but I wasn’t sure if he’d survive this one. Then again, I didn’t know all of what had happened to him since he’d died on our throne room floor. Had he broken bones? dislocated limbs? Had he been sliced up like a prized roast pig and leftover the spit to burn? It seemed, now, that every bone in his body was broken – like he’d need a full-body cast – so it was a good thing that we had a plethora of magical healers in our midst.

Now that Percy was back on earth and back in our lives, I didn’t know what I’d do if he left again.

Looking down at his arm, I saw, half-covered in bandages, was the scar that my father’s horrid god-spawn had given him all those years ago. I scowled. The letters hadn’t faded at all, and from the ones I could see, were still slightly red; it was like they weren’t healing.

Percy’s last injury glowed, and the wound closed up. It was still tender, though this last one did not have to be wrapped, and the healers stepped away. It was suddenly as if a large weight was lifted off of my shoulders. My back unhunched; my spine sprung up straight with newfound relief.

“He should be fine,” Chaos said, after speaking with Calypso. “All he needs now is to get some rest.”

Calypso was back at Percy’s side – well, above his head – with her hands hovering on either side of his face, fingertips over his temples. She chanted softly, eyes closed, and warm light was emitted from her hands. It washed over Percy in waves for what I could only guess to be a “fast-forward” on his recuperation.

Everyone immediately gathered around to catch a glimpse of him; they still couldn’t believe that he was back, but none dared approach. Thalia – one of Percy’s only friends who hadn’t abandoned him – though also hadn’t done anything because she hadn’t known about what was going on – took a seat next to me. As she sat, everyone froze. None left the room, though none moved forward. We didn’t want to crowd him, after all. Hundreds of wide eyes looked on – the angels at the forefront. The demigods and their parents were interspersed behind in layers.

We all stayed like that, quiet even from breath as we held the air in our lungs in anticipation. Then, there was a yawn.

Percy’s eyes were slow to flicker open, and as they did, Calypso stepped away. A low, drawn-out groan left his lips as he moved, just barely wiggling his fingers and toes in an effort to awaken. Then, the green orbs appeared.

“Hey Thals,” he said, smiling at his friend as soon as he saw her.

“Percy! You’re alright!” she replied with enthusiasm – something he couldn’t express at the moment lest he breaks a rib…again. Thalia almost jumped into giving him a hug, but was stopped by a stern look from Calypso, and settled on placing her hand on his shoulder.

“No hugs until he’s fully healed. I don’t want to deal with _this_ patient any more than I have to,” the healer joked.

Percy sent her a fake insulted look. A sarcastic “wow” met her statement. Shifting his weight on the table, he groaned again. “I’m numb all over, but I think that’s better than the alternative.”

“You know it is,” Calypso replied. “Just stop moving; the spell fades the more you move.”

Percy sighed and let his body fall limp again. “Fine,” he mumbled. “Well…that was incredibly inconvenient.”

I almost couldn’t stop myself from slapping him upside the head, but with a miraculous bit of willpower, refrained from doing so. Around me, others laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation. Even Chaos chuckled a little.

“Good to see that you are back to your normal self, Perseus.”

“It’s Percy.”

It seemed that something – a knot, deep within my chest – detangled itself. He hadn’t changed at all. Or, perhaps, he had changed too much. I couldn’t tell for now, but it was leaning toward the former, which I hoped against hope itself that it was the case. Give me Pandora’s jar, as I would never give it up that this Percy was _my_ Percy – the one that I knew and yearned to see again after all these years.

He opened his eyes. “Why am I lying on a table? And in the middle of the throne room, for gods’ sake?” With a deep breath, he tried to rise, and with a single push of her arms, he was up. I flinched as a series of loud pops emanated from his back joints.

“Percy,” Chaos warned, “You should not be moving around just yet. Your body is still recovering.”

“I’m not just going to sleep on a table all day! Who do you think I am? Luke?”

Proteus – Luke – scowled. “One time!” he cried in despair, “It happened _one time_! Will you ever let me live it down?”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m okay.” He slid off the table, but as soon as any weight was placed upon his legs, he collapsed. His knees were soft as overcooked noodles, not able to support him whatsoever. He groaned. “Ow. Less okay.”

With an exasperated sigh, Chaos snapped his fingers. I expected something to happen, but at first, nothing did, and I wondered if anything was meant to happen in the first place. Just as I was about to write it off as just a normal snap, Percy’s body glowed and lifted into the air. He was a puppet in the invisible grip of Chaos, lifted up into a standing position, though his feet were just barely touching the floor.

Percy crossed his arms, still glowing. “I could’ve gotten up myself, you know,” he grumbled. Sitting back down on the table, the glow faded.

There was another lapse in silence, just to be broken by Poseidon. The sea god stepped forward. “Percy…”

Percy’s head was down for a second like he couldn’t bring himself to look up at the man who had once been his father. Then again, maybe it was just my imagination, because he looked up, his eyes taking on an immediate look of concern. “Poseidon?” Though love and care were the foremost emotions, I could almost detect an underlining resentment in his voice… Almost.

Poseidon’s eyes were the sea after a storm. The watery blue blurred together with his tears, saltier than any other as they streamed in salty rivers down his unshaven cheeks. “I thought you were dead… My son… It was all my fault.”

“I’m not your son anymore,” Percy said, not meeting the other man’s eyes directly. “But that’s okay. I was never worthy to be your son anyway. I deserved what I got that day, all those years ago.”

Suddenly, rage burned in my heart; it was an inferno, eating me up inside, but Poseidon spoke before I could even find the words: “Listen here, Percy.” Gone was the sorrow from his voice – only righteous anger remained. “You did not deserve _any_ of what happened to you. You aren’t to blame; _we_ _are_. Believe me when I say that none of us have felt anything but regret for our actions since that day. And… I hope you can forgive us… forgive me – please, son… for what we – _I_ – did to you.”

It was then that Percy met Poseidon’s eyes for the first time. Green met green, and I could almost see Percy’s eyes – cosmic and full of stars – grow brighter, full of hope and new life. He smiled, and suddenly, the scar on his arm rippled, like water struck by a pebble. The word – the brand – _MURDERER_ , faded. Then, it was gone. “Of course, I forgive you, Poseidon – all of you – but I am not your son. I can never be your son.”

The sorrow had returned to his voice, and, coupled with exhaustion, he fell forward, eyes slipping closed. I felt the two syllables of his name leave my lips, but I was frozen in place. Poseidon, far quicker than me, lunged forward to catch him, and the dark-haired boy – man – fell into his father’s arms.

Poseidon stepped away.

And Chaos drew him close. He looked down at the boy and smiled softly. “With great power, comes great need to take a nap,” he said, looking directly at another certain dark-haired boy in the crowd.

***First Person Point of View ~ Nico***

I couldn’t believe it. Percy was alive, and hurt, and healing. He was awake, then talking, then back asleep again. –And Chaos quoted me! What? When had I even said that? I was sure I did, speaking to Percy no less, but what had I been doing? Summoning a ghoul? Shadow travelling. I couldn’t even remember, but that didn’t matter now.

Chaos set Percy back on the table, and we were right back to where we started. What now? I couldn’t help but stare at him. My coal-black eyes focused on his eyelids – which hid a new shade of green beneath, not Percy, but so much Percy at the same time. He used to be my friend. We’d always had a difficult relationship, but I’d considered him close enough to be my brother – after I’d started dating Will, that is. That all changed a few years ago, though. I’d hurt him. Like all the others, I’d hurt him, and he was never going to be the same. I’d betrayed his trust, kicked him down into the dirt like he was nothing.

And I would never forgive myself for it.

No matter how many times he said it. No matter how many years Will has been trying to get me to forgive myself, to move on and make a life for myself, I couldn’t forget. If not for Will, it would’ve consumed my life. I might’ve even tried to kill myself, but his love for me stilled my hand. Every time I felt the urge, his gentle hand on my wrist was stronger – his strong arms around me calmed my heart and set it aflame at the same time.

After five years, I could’ve almost convinced myself that I was over it – that Percy was happy wherever he was because he was away from all of us, but now, looking at him again, I felt the guilt tighten within me, sinking deeper in my chest like I’d swallowed a bowling ball.

He didn’t even hate us.

Why didn’t he hate us?

It would’ve been so much easier if he did. If he resented each and every one of us for leaving him because that was what we deserved. Why couldn’t he just come back kicking and screaming? Why couldn’t he just stand by and let us die from this new threat? Betray us to that new monster – the karma looming just overhead, lurking like I always knew it was?

No.

He had to come back, put up a façade that he was someone else because he was here to save us. He’d come to defend earth – the planet that left him unloved and unwanted – to protect us from a new enemy. He’d been captured, questioned, and tortured, and we could do nothing for him. There would be no way – with all the time in the world – that we would be able to repay him for how selfless, kind, and heroic he was, but we sure as Hades (sorry dad) would try.

I had long since come to the conclusion that Percy was too good of a human being to be real. He’d always been there for me – something I’d never thought possible. Even from the very beginning, when I’d blamed him for Bianca’s death, he’d still gone out of his way to look out for me and my wellbeing. He’d stuck by me, always, through thick and thin – good and bad. Every time I messed up, fallen down, he’d still be there, picking me up and putting me back on my feet.

Every time.

Not this time, though, I couldn’t allow it. This mistake was too big – too deep. It was just too awful to just overcome like some other hurdle in his racetrack of life. Percy, despite his flawless resolve to never give up, had given up. He had died, thanks to us, only to be brought back because he was worthy. He had joined the highest honour – the best army in the universe, because he still wanted to make a difference, even after what we’d done to him.

I saw Thalia sitting next to him and couldn’t help the jealousy burning in my chest. Not jealousy, actually: resentment. It was resentment towards me because it wasn’t Thalia’s fault that she hadn’t been there to betray him. She hadn’t even known what was going on; she was blissfully unaware of the pain and suffering I’d caused our cousin…ex-cousin. I’d actually taunted him. I’d bullied him. I’d been unremorseful and unresponsive to the look of pain and heartbreak in his eyes.

How could I have been so heartless? So cruel?

Was I a monster?

I already knew the answer; even when all of the people around me tried to convince me otherwise, I knew what I was. I’d done nothing. Not until it was too late.

I turned away, letting shameful tears fall from my eyes at last. They slid down, so heavy in the tracks they left on my face. The stubble on my chin (I hadn’t shaved in a little while) caught them, but eventually, they all reached the same place – the dark corner of my heart where all other tears collected, their whispers only reappearing when I was alone, sole purpose: to drive me to the brink of insanity, then slowly – painfully – pull me back. Then, it started all over again.

I’d rebuilt my friendships since then, but right after it all happened, no one could look at me. Me, Annabeth, and Poseidon – we’d been all but shunned from the godly world, by our friends, the Romans – who’d known nothing of the betrayal; by Thalia and the Hunters – who’d respected Percy as a person and a hero; by the gods themselves – those who’d cared for him, of course.

Surprisingly, it was Artemis who hated us the most. I always knew when she was around because silver arrows would strike close to me (one or two have actually hit me; non-lethal as they were, they were _painful_ ).

I’d gone down the rabbit hole again, and Will knew it because he pulled me out with a single strong arm, wrapped around my waist to pull me into his side. My chest rested against his shoulder – he was taller than me, after all – and I just listened to his heartbeat as it pulled me back to the present.

Percy was back. He was fine, now, just resting. He forgave us, I knew that since the very beginning, but seeing him, having moved on with his life, happy with new (old?) friends that still loved and cared for him – that was enough for me. I could finally attempt to rid myself of the heavy burden of my guilt – or at least lighten the load.

My resolve was made, unbroken, then and there. I needed to speak with him. Once he was up and healed, I needed to find my words and talk to him. To apologize for what I’d done. Even if he rejects my resentments, just saying the words will give me at least some form of relief.

The Angels had crowded around him almost immediately as he was replaced on the table, chattering in worried, hushed tones, and if I’d even made the effort to try and hear what they were saying, I found that they weren’t even speaking English, so there was no point. Besides, no matter how much I wanted to rush in, to be at his side, I knew that they wouldn’t welcome me into their circle. It was a circle for Percy’s closest friends – for those who hadn’t betrayed him. I would always be excluded from that now.

How could I have allowed this to happen?

“He is still very weak,” Chaos murmured to us as if speaking any louder would wake him. “Though he always pulls through. In all five thousand years that I have known him, he has never failed in exceeding my expectations.”

Five thousand years? He’d only been gone of five (just five), right?

Poseidon spoke next, ignoring the “five-thousand-year” comment by Chaos. (How could he just ignore it?) “I think that I should bring him back to my cabin at camp. The ocean-like atmosphere should help heal him. I could bring him to my palace...but I believe that for now, the knowledge that Percy's alive might shock my servants far too much.”

Chaos shook his head. “You don’t seem to understand what keeps being said to you. He is not your son anymore. You severed those ties to him, and they can never be reattached. He is my son now, by the Ancient rights, so his private room in my cabin is the place we should bring him.” He sounded like he wanted Poseidon to stay calm, despite the troubling information he was providing.

"I'll stay with him." Nearly everyone had said it at the same time, hands raised in the air like they’d been high schoolers asked: “who wants to skip this test and still get 100%?”. They all looked at each other, and then looked back at Chaos, waiting for him to choose which one he wanted to stay with Percy.

Meanwhile, Artemis looked furious. " I will stay with him." She said in a low growl. (Why did she think she had the rights to Percy?)

Chaos didn’t argue with her – even he had to admit that she looked really scary. I had the sudden urge to run and hide for my life, but, with difficulty, stomped it down, settling for just sinking deeper into Will’s arms. I felt myself nod along with her statement, as did many people around me.

Percy’s groan interrupted the tense silence, and all at once, we all relaxed as Artemis’ gaze turned to him and immediately softened. She pulled out a silver handkerchief and wiped away a bit of blood that had coagulated in the corner of his mouth. Gods, Talk about bipolar.

I immediately winced as that thought crossed my mind, hoping that she wasn’t reading my mind at that moment. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw my father give me a strange look, though he also looked slightly amused. At least it was only him.

Artemis then took Percy’s in hers, and, with Chaos holding his other hand, the three of them teleported away in an absence of light and space. (I swear by my father’s underpants, I’d never get used to seeing black-hole portal teleportation. Like, ever.)

I lowered my head and sighed. My thoughts returned to being depressing, thinking about Percy. Before he died, he had said that he forgave us for what we did. Maybe it was to clear his consciousness or perhaps even to relieve us of our guilt, I don’t know. In truth, all it did was make the guilt worse. He forgave us so easily; he cared about us that much even after the way we treated him...made us – well, me anyway – feel like we never deserved him in the first place.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 3555**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	23. The Recovery Period

When they reached the Chaos cabin, Artemis couldn’t help but be impressed. Sure, she was mainly focused on Percy, but that didn’t stop her from glancing around to see the rustic – yet also somehow futuristic – interior of the building. Everything seemed to be made of wood – smooth dark wood for the floors, glossy slabs for the countertops, and beams reaching from wall to wall above their heads.

However, the secondary aspect she noticed was the sleek metal and simplistic style of modern homes. They’d teleported into the middle of the first floor, where there was a combined kitchen and living area, then the stairs to the angel’s rooms. Comfy black couches and armchairs littered the living space, and the thin blank screen of a television caught her eye above the stone fireplace.

“This way,” Chaos instructed, as he took Percy into his arms, leading her up the stairs. He handled carrying the man fairly well, despite the large wings, but Artemis just assumed that he’d had a lot of practice.

Her eyes strayed to the window just behind them as they ascended the stairs; it gazed out to the camp, giving her a perfect view of the cabins – all equally in view of theirs. At the top of the stairs, which abruptly stopped and turned at a ninety-degree angle to the right, Chaos was waiting for her beside a door, which obviously, he was waiting for her to open, as his hands were full. A small plaque on the door read _“Boys”_ which surprised her, as she’d assumed that they’d each have their own rooms, separate from one another. Was it to do with space or just their team’s natural interconnectedness?

Chaos set him down on the furthest bed, by a window. Artemis couldn’t really tell the difference, because all of the beds were made neatly – a surprise coming from a group of _boys_ – though only one of the nightstands was occupied. Percy’s bed had a small flowerpot, containing a single flower.

Artemis gasped, and as she sat, linked her fingers with Percy’s, but beheld the plant at his bedside.

She recognized it as a trillium from the three, delicately wavy petals, but, at the same time, it wasn’t a trillium at all. The stem and leaves seemed to be made of pure gold, and the petals, while normally white, red, or purple, were instead blacker than any night sky she’d flown across and were dabbled with more stars than the Milky Way. She could only stare in wonder, fearing that if she reached out to touch it, it would cease to exist. How had he come into possession of such a flower? She did not know the answer but knew it wasn’t the right time to ask.

It was seconds later that Percy returned to the forefront of her mind. Her eyes fell upon him again, resting as the aura of the cabin hummed in the very air around them, healing him. As she observed him, she realized that he wasn’t one of those people who tossed and turned in his sleep. No. Instead, he was solemnly still, reminding me vividly of a corpse, and watching his chest rising and falling was all I could do to remind myself that he was alive; he was okay.

In the intimacy of the room, she sat closer to him than she would have normally, one hand entwined with his and the other fidgeting nervously; she tapped her fingernails on the surface of the nightstand.

In opposition to her, Chaos had taken up his place at the end of Percy’s bed, watching with a calm, paternal eye. He smiled a secret smile; it was clear that the moon goddess cared very much for his son. The air hummed, not only with the energy of the universe but also with the intensity of their emotions. Both felt the same way – Chaos knew this for a fact; he’d spent enough time with Percy to know how he felt. Just… if only they weren’t separated by years apart.

Artemis stopped tapping for just a moment, catching his attention. His eyes turned to her just as she reached forward, tucking a stray lock of hair from Percy’s face with such tenderness than Chaos felt his heart break a little. How could they stand being apart? It seemed that the Fates – maybe even a force more powerful than them – had decreed that these two be together.

The comfortable silence, after having only just settled over the three of them, was quickly broken by a gentle knock at the door. Chaos moved to answer but could’ve sworn that Artemis _growled_.

The door opened a second later, admitting Hester – Zoë, Artemis’ old lieutenant and best friend – into the room. She moved slowly, in the elegant way of a princess. In one move, she’d crossed the room and was seated at Percy’s bedside as well, leaving me to stand, frozen, next to the door.

I’d once thought that she’d be a good match for Percy. In their younger years – perhaps seven hundred years ago – I’d seen a connection between the two, a happiness that I’d thought only existed between lovers, but alas, I was wrong. I saw now that it was Zoë’s closeness to Artemis that brought him solace. They could speak of the goddess in reverence and care – one sentimental and one wistful – and it brought them as close as brother and sister.

Finally, she spoke, “The other angels are worried. They wanted to know how he was doing but were too scared of Artemis to come themselves.”

“Rightfully so,” Artemis replied with a firm nod of her head.

“On the way here, I thanked Poseidon.”

Artemis narrowed her eyes. “How come?” She seemed genuinely curious.

“Poseidon saved him. Brought him peace. You did, too, my lady, but hearing the apology from his father – ahem, ex-father… it was something he needed sorely. It weighed him down for over five thousand years. Even when he took his new life, his new body, free of the failings of his past life, he kept it. He said it… 'tied him to mortality’, that it ‘kept him sane’ because he had some twisted notion that he was paying for whatever grievous mistake he’d made.” She sighed, looking down at her hands.

Artemis nodded, leaning closer to her friend.

“We were his friends, my lady. All of us were his friends, but… I fear that we were not enough to solace him. Only coming back here, facing his past, has he finally been able to heal.” Zoë then abruptly stood, bid her goodbyes, and left, sending the room plunging back into silence once more.

Chaos placed a hand on Artemis’ shoulder. “Please, tell me when he wakes.” As he, too, left, he caught her look of gratitude, and only gave her a smile before closing the door with a firm _click_.

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

I hated seeing Percy unconscious. It didn’t suit his power, his position, to be so vulnerable. That was why I knew I had to stay with him. The others had left us alone – as I’d been hoping, but only in the depths of my being, though I would never admit it aloud.

Chaos was, by far, the strangest character I’d met in all of my immortal years. He was a loving father and a great leader, but I just couldn’t get a clear read on him. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking like he had walls built up around his entire self. Obviously, that could just be because he was one of the creators and was a being so ancient that I was still a mere child to him, but I couldn’t help but feel that it was something more than that, as well. Did he have a secret that he was hiding? Once again: obvious. Of course, he did, but did it involve me, or was my ego running wild?

I admit, only to myself, that if gods had a fatal flaw, mine would be my pride.

Percy mumbled under his breath, pulling me from my musings, though as I looked down again, focusing on his face, I was only pulled deeper within my own head, admiring his features.

He’d been gone for five years – the blink of an eye to an immortal – but I’d almost forgotten his face. It had changed greatly over the years; he had just a bit of stubble growing on his chin, and by my calculations, if he hadn’t died, he’d be twenty-two years of age, and physically, he looked right about in that range. My own self, now in my twenties, like my brother, matched him.

His eyes were closed, and I longed to see their new shade again but knew that I’d just have to wait until he opened them. I hoped that he would wake soon – any moment now – but he remained still. Not even a hint of movement since the mumble minutes ago. What had he said?

I hadn’t been listening closely enough to hear him, but it didn’t matter. He was okay. Finally, my emotions burst forth: all of the worry and fear and stress weighed down on me and my limbs felt like they’d gained millions of pounds. My body moved without being told, eyes slipping closed as I laid my head on his chest, falling asleep.

I awoke when Percy did, in the sense that when he started to move beneath me, I shot up out of my seat. My eyes wide and alert, I behind Percy in front of me, just waking up and looking healthier than ever. He was positively glowing, even as he groaned softly, bringing his hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Percy?” I whispered, briefly touching his shoulder to alert him to my presence. Despite having been holding his hand before falling asleep, the contact sent an electric shock up my arm.

He rolled over just slightly to grin at me. “You know what?” he asked. His voice was a little croaky, but that was only from lack of use.

“What?”

“I’m now the Boy Who Lived. Twice. Harry Potter’s got nothing on me.” He laughed at his own joke, which only resulted in a sickening wet cough. “I’m fine,” he said immediately as I reached out to check him over. A light dusting of red spread over his cheeks as he turned to look out the window, smiling at the view of the sun, rising over the forest.

I was drawn to the window as well; the leaves glittered like gold, exposing their pale underbellies to every gust of wind and twirling about, desperately clutching their branches. I’d completely forgotten that it was just the beginning of autumn.

We looked on in silence until the sun was completely exposed, no longer hiding beyond the horizon – when I realized that Chaos would probably want to know that his son was awake.

“Whoops,” I muttered, just catching Percy’s amused expression before I teleported out of the room.

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

Well, that was an awkward morning. However, as soon as Artemis was gone, I knew that I had the chance to stand up – as most people around me would try to prevent. Upside: I made it out of bed… downside: I didn’t make it that far.

I could walk, of course, but as soon as I was on my feet again and walking, Chaos teleported right in front of me. He took me by surprise and then used that to his advantage as he steadied me and led me back to bed.

 _‘Again, with the bed! I don’t need to go to bed!’_ I thought.

 _‘Better than the floor, though,’_ Tile said, and I sighed, knowing that he was right.

“So,” Chaos said, sitting down next to me. “I’m glad you’re alright, my son, but you must take it easy for now. Your powers will heal you to your full strength, and so you may not have access to them for a short while. You will still have your skills; they will be there to defend you in times of need. And Haetros, too.”

“Where is he?” I asked, looking around. My wolf companion was nowhere in sight.

Chaos grinned. “He is patrolling the camp while you are resting. He wanted to come see you but thought it would be better to make sure nothing else was to harm you, and he sent me along with his love.”

I nodded.

Suddenly, Chaos adopted a sly expression as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Speaking of love, my son, I’ve noticed that your eye has been drawn by a certain… lady.”

“Father!” I whined; my face was probably beet-red. “I do not! I am entirely professional!”

“I never said you weren’t, my son. Just know that after five thousand years, I just want you to be happy. You need to take a step forward for yourself, not just your soldiers.”

“Very well, father. I shall keep that in mind.”

“Excellent. Will you now join me for breakfast? I am quite famished.”

“But you don’t get hungry.”

“Okay… maybe I have some ulterior motive. Will you join me anyway?”

I nodded, smiling. “Sure thing.”

He helped me to and to the bathroom so that I could shower and change out of the ratty trousers that Destruction had given me. I immediately threw those into the incinerator, watching in satisfaction as they burned to ashes.

“I will just be outside, son. Waiting,” I heard from downstairs.

“I’ll only be a moment, father,” I called back, then heard the front door close.

As the scalding water met my body, I sighed. Blood and grime crusted off of me in flakes as I stretched, turning the water a rusty brownish-red as it circled the drain. A groan escaped my lips. It felt nice to relax for once. The pressure of the water tore into my aching muscles, which were knotted more than a pair of earbuds (silly contraptions).

After the short time scrubbing myself down completely and standing in absolute silence under the spray, I switched it off and snapped my fingers to dry myself. It didn’t work. Cursing my powers, I fumbled for a towel and dried the manual way, cursing as I realized how much I hated this part of a shower. It was just so much easier to will myself dry.

Of course, that meant that as I crossed the bathroom to grab my clothes, which were set aside by Chaos, I left wet footprints across the heated tiles. I towelled relentlessly, thankful that this bathroom didn’t steam up, and quickly changed, only wincing once or twice as I twisted to adjust my cloak. My wings spread of their own accord, brushing the wall on one side. One was still bandaged – luckily, I still had enough power to enchant it against getting wet – but the other was completely healed from my family reunion with my uncle.

I left my weapons in the closet, without the need or the strength to carry them all the way to breakfast. Just as I was about to grab my mask, I remembered that I didn’t need it anymore, not for everyone around the camp, and after one last look at my gaunt face in the mirror, I turned and went downstairs.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2550**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	24. Good Doggy... Nice Doggy...

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

For the first time, I was walking around without my mask. Back on Celestia, of course, I didn’t wear one – most of the time – but otherwise, especially on missions, I always had to cover up my true identity. Because of that…I don’t know… sometimes I just didn’t feel like myself. I felt like I was both inside and outside my body, both moving around, but also just watching myself move from somewhere else.

That wasn’t what it felt like as Chaos and I walked into the dining pavilion. I felt gruesomely aware of my lack of mask as everyone fell silent, all eyes immediately turning to the two of us with watchful, unreadable eyes.

My only comfort was the angels, who’d all stood, formed up on either side of our table as they waited for us to sit. I waved my hand dismissively and they sat. Chaos was quickly at their table, sitting at one end of it, but I was not so lucky to make it over there without interruption, because Thalia had also stood. She rose from her seat – almost all alone at her table, and marched straight over to me, pulling me in for a bone-crushing hug. (I think Tyson was tutoring her for the past few centuries.)

 _“Wait,”_ I thought. _“Where is Tyson?”_ I couldn’t see him anywhere.

 _“Perhaps your half-brother is in the sea with his brethren, crafting weapons and such. Surely, he is well-experienced by now,”_ Crypt guessed.

 _“Maybe you should go visit sometime?”_ Tile said.

 _“Perhaps I will,”_ I replied to them as Thalia let me go. I was just about to speak when suddenly, she zapped me. In all honesty, it didn’t hurt – more like she’d shuffled along a carpet in wool socks and then touched my arm – but I pretended that it did just to feed her ego. It did, however, make my hair stand on end; all over my body, it stood straight up into the air, sparking with electricity.

“Thalia!” I protested, glaring at her as I tried to smooth down my hair, to no avail. “I just combed my hair! Kind of…” She gave me a disbelieving look. Maybe because she knew that I could never tame my locks, no matter how hard I tried. “What was that for anyway?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

Her eyes narrowed. “That was for dying, and then coming back and not telling me! And this… This is for getting yourself captured!” I was only confused for a moment before she punched me in the stomach – which also didn’t hurt, but it took me by surprise, knocking the wind out of me.

When I looked back up at Thalia, I was surprised to find tears gathering in her eyes. Thalia was never one to cry, even when things looked bad. I wondered: what could possibly make her cry now?

 _“It’s because she cared about you,”_ Crypt whispered into my ear. _“You were part of her family, and then, suddenly, you were gone. She didn’t know what happened, and she didn’t even get the chance to say a proper goodbye.”_

I opened my arms, and she launched herself at me, sobbing into my chest. Her body convulsed against mine; rapid, irregular tremors overtook her shoulders, and I felt the front of my cloak become damp, but I didn’t care. I just wrapped my arms around her tightly, rubbing gentle circles on her back as we stood in the center of the dining pavilion, unconcerned about the hundreds of pairs of eyes watching us.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. My breath brushed her ear, causing her to flinch slightly. "I’m so, so sorry."

Leading her back to the hunters, I gave her one last tight squeeze and helped her step over the bench to sit. She wiped the tears from her eyes, not meeting anyone’s concerned gazes, but still accepting hugs from the hunters closest to her. Artemis, from her spot on the other bench, gave me a small grateful smile.

Finally, I went to sit at my own table. Just as I set down in my chair, I was tackled once again (what was with that?) by another blur. This time, it was a brown one. I looked down to see Rosie, arms wrapped around my middle. With a bright smile, I pulled her up into my lap.

“I’m really, really, _really_ glad you’re okay. Please don’t leave again. Please?”

I nodded. “I won’t.”

“Promise?” She gave me these huge, pleading puppy-dog eyes and held out her pinky.

I may have been gone for five years, but some things never changed. I linked my pinky with hers, and nodded again, more firmly than before. “I promise.” To show her that I meant it, my eyes never left her large, innocent, ivy green ones.

A happy giggle bubbled from her chest, and she gave me another hug, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck, before running off, happy as can be.

Then, just as I was about to start eating (I’d even picked up some food already!) when another person came up to me… It was a young dryad; whose face was a brilliant green all the way down to her chest. I wondered: what is causing her to blush so heavily, as dryads only turn green when they blush?

“Lord Perseus,” she said shyly, “I think that you should know…Lord Haetros has been waiting for you. He wishes to see you.”

Last I’d heard, he was guarding the border to make sure nothing else got into the camp. Perhaps he thought it was his duty, or perhaps he was just protecting me – he was a _very_ overprotective companion. I didn’t know which; the one thing I knew was that he was going to be extremely angry that I hadn’t told him that I was up and moving as soon as I was awake.

I paled. “And…where is he now?” I asked.

“On his way here, sir,” the dryad responded.

I leaned in, whispering, “Does he know where I am?”

She nodded, then gave an empathetic wince as a loud howl echoed through the dining pavilion. I turned. There he was, completely lit from head to tail in the purple fire, wings spread wide. _“Perseus!”_ he shouted, directly into my brain.

I immediately jumped out of my chair, holding both hands in front of me. _“Haetros…let’s be calm about this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was up. Please? I’m sorry, okay?”_

He glowed lowly, stalking toward me. I couldn’t even hear him in my head – he must’ve locked me out. The only sound in the dining pavilion was his footsteps; it seemed that no one else even dared to breathe as he walked between their tables. (Luckily, he’d made the Voidfyre harmless just in case he touched someone by accident.)

“Oh, dear Chaos,” I mumbled, starting to back away slowly. “Please help me.” Then, a switch flipped in my brain, and suddenly, I found myself taking off in a mad sprint with a blazing, snarling wolf on my tail.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 1185**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	25. Maybe Luke Was Always That Weird...

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

“Oh, dear Chaos.” Percy was slowly backing away from the enraged blazing creature, though it didn’t seem to be very effective, as Haetros took a step forward for every one of Percy’s. “Please help me.” He darted away in a rush of panic with a blur of flaming wolf right behind him. Haetros was snapping at his heels.

If I’d been in his same position, I’d have teleported away. There was no way I’d face down that wolf as long as his body was encompassed by the dark purple flames. Silver tongues of Voidfyre licked at his fur in streaks and his wings laid almost flat against his back to allow him to chase after Percy faster. I blinked, which was enough to miss the two as they suddenly disappeared into the thicket of the forest, though sight wasn’t everything, as loud screams could be heard, even across the camp.

When they returned, it was as if nothing had even happened, because Percy’s cuts and bruises were fading as he walked, and by the time he sat back down in his seat, the black eye and every single one of his burns had faded. Haetros, after shrinking from a Great Dane to a beagle, hopped up onto Percy’s lap and fell asleep.

It was still surreal, though – having Percy back. He was acting like he’d never left. Despite his gaunt appearance he smiled with all the radiance of the sun. He shouldn’t be at such ease in this camp, not after what we did to him – _especially_ not after what we did. Many of the campers shifted uncomfortably. All at once, they rose from their seats, like it was rehearsed.

“We’re sorry!” it was jumbled and overlapped so badly that the words became mud, but Percy seemed to understand. He forgave them instantly, of course, and once again, I felt surprise slap me across the face. My whole body buzzed with incomprehension. How could he be so kind? He had every right to hate them – to hate all of us – and yet he could forgive the unforgivable.

Suddenly, a small girl ran over to Percy. She must’ve been only four or five years old, and her blond-haired, blue-eyed, grinning face told that she must’ve been one of my nieces. She tugged on Percy’s sleeve, catching his attention and then a smile. Arms raised in a request to be lifted, and Percy, ever the gentleman, obliged, setting her into his lap. (Haetros gave a soft grunt; he didn’t seem too pleased with having to share.)

I watched intently, wondering what Percy would do. It seemed that everyone had similar thoughts, as most of the eyes in the Dining Pavilion swivelled, too.

The girl blushed, opening her mouth only to close it again. Finally, like a mouse, she said, “I’m Mary. Can I have your autograph?”

Percy blinked. “Why would you want that?”

“Cause you’re really cool, that’s why. And also…” She leaned in closer, cupping her small hands around her mouth as she whispered into his ear.

“Is that so?” he asked with a new smile curling on his lips.

Mary nodded.

Instead of giving her an autograph, though, Percy just held his hand up in the air. Between his fingers, dark energy knit itself together to become a dainty flower. The petals, all three of them, were thin and wavy, and they looked like they’d been sculpted out of glass. From the center, it was dark with flecks of light, like space. They seemed otherworldly against the plain green leaves and the red clay flowerpot.

“How about this instead?” Percy asked.

“Wow!” She stared at the flower with more stars in her eyes than were on the petals. “Really?” Her eyes held disbelief as they met Percy’s.

He nodded.

“It’s so pretty!” she announced, giving him a big smile and a hug before he set her down. She ran off towards my brother with the flowerpot clutched tightly in her small hands. He picked her up and set her on his knee, smiling at her. He sent Percy a grateful look and started talking to his youngest daughter.

At the far end of the head table, I could see Poseidon sitting with an ear-to-ear grin on his face as he watched Percy. He may not have any other children at this time, but I could tell that even if he did, he wouldn’t love Percy any less. He really loved his son, anyone could see that, which was why we’d all been so shocked when he’d disowned Percy all those years ago. He was the first god to ever do such a thing; even Apollo hadn’t disowned Octavius from his immortal bloodline after all the little rat had done. We had no idea what it had done to Percy – only that it had hurt a lot.

I tried to smile, too, because my hunters were around me and Percy was back from the dead, but then I saw Aphrodite and her daughters, and my smile faded. It seemed that her entire cabin was staring, but not with the soft smiles and relieved eyes that everyone else had. Instead, I saw wandering gazes graze over his body, and could practically see the lines of drool gleaming along their lips. Aphrodite herself was trying to catch Percy’s eye and I could feel my teeth grinding together; however, she seemed to be failing, so I relaxed my shoulders.

I was just about to return my attention to my meal, which was probably getting cold by now when a distant howl echoed through the camp from the forest. That could only mean one thing. My wolves were back. They’d been visiting Lupa at her home for the past few weeks and I could feel a calming wave of warmth run through me from my head to my toes. Their alpha, a snowy white timber wolf called Runa, led the way. The others were various shades of brown and grey and white, but none had as spotless fur as hers. She was somewhat bulkier than all the others, and though she led alone, her strength kept them together as a perfect, cohesive unit.

As they trotted across the grass, her golden eyes met mine. A sudden thud made needles crawl up my spine and I twisted around to see that Haetros had stumbled getting out of Percy’s lap and was laying on the ground at his feet, back in full wolf size. Maybe he was nervous around other wolves. I didn’t think much of it, because Percy was just looking down at his friend, chuckling under his breath.

“Percy!”

There was an audible shift as everyone whirled around in their seats to stare at Luke, who had just entered the Pavilion to my left.

“You know what I just remembered?”

Percy sighed. “What, Luke? What did you just remember?”

“Now that you’re not wearing your mask anymore, you should be wearing your crown. You know, since you’re the freaking prince of the universe!”

“I’m not wearing that stupid crown,” Percy snapped. “It makes me look ridiculous.”

“But you have to!” Luke protested. “The only reason you weren’t wearing it before is because it doesn’t go with the mask. It’s pretty much the law that you have to wear it ‘cause you’re the prince. People have to know who you are.”

“Like they all don't just recognize me walking down the street. I’m not wearing it.”

“I’ll tell Chaos!”

“Go ahead and tell. He can’t make me wear it either.” Percy crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat.

Luke’s face pinched so much that his scar almost vanished. “Chaos!” he shouted.

Almost immediately, a portal opened and the living embodiment of chaos himself emerged. He glanced at Luke. “You called?”

“Percy’s not wearing his crown.” The slight whininess of his tone moved like sludge through my ear canal. I shuddered. He sounded like a spoiled little brat.

Nonetheless, Chaos turned to Percy. “You should be wearing your crown.”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, you should. It’s part of the ancient law.”

“I don’t care. I won’t wear it. It looks terrible.”

Chaos sighed. “Percy, your crown was crafted by the best jewellers in all of the seventy-seven galaxies, from the core of a dying star in a forge hotter than this galaxy’s sun. It was made specifically for you the day Order and I named you our heir. Why won’t you wear it?”

“Because I said so. I don’t want to.”

“I’ll just have to make you wear it. I won’t have you besmirching the royal reputation.”

“You can’t make me wear it. No one can.”

“Order can.”

“Order doesn’t count. She’s my mom. She can make anyone do anything.”

“Then I’ll just ask her to make you wear the crown.”

“She won’t do that. She knows that I don’t like wearing the crown.”

This back and forth banter went on for some time longer, but I think most people stopped paying attention. Of course, there were others who were still watching, their heads swivelling from side to side like they were watching Olympic tennis.

“If you don’t put the crown on right now, I swear I’ll weld it to your skull,” Chaos threatened.

“I’d like to see you try.”

That seemed to have been Chaos’ last attempt because he just sighed. His shoulders slumped. “Fine. You win.”

Perhaps he and Percy had been through this very same argument before because Percy looked positively shocked that Chaos had given up. His spine straightened in his seat like someone had replaced it with a broomstick. “Really?”

Chaos plodded over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Yup. You win. I won’t make you wear the crown.” He was a picture of absolute complacency…until he wasn’t. The creator suddenly moved at a speed faster than the eye could see, grabbing Percy. “Psyche!” he shouted, and with a flash of blue and gold, a ring of metal found itself atop Percy’s messy black locks. There was a flash, and then Chaos was gone.

“What-!” Percy pulled at the crown, but it wouldn’t budge. He didn’t try for long. “Luke! I’m blaming you for this!” Suddenly, his cloak transformed into a frilly blue dress. Percy screamed. Immediately, he snapped his fingers and the dress disappeared. He slammed his chair back so hard that it hit the ground behind him, and, staring up at the sky, he shouted. “Father! You know I hate it when you do that!” he seemed to have completely forgotten about Luke.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Luke!”

I guess I spoke too soon.

Luke just laughed nervously, his face paling. “But…you make such a beautiful princess, Percy.”

Percy growled. I couldn’t even tell if the noise he made was human; it probably wasn’t. “Get out of here while I’m still feeling merciful.”

“But… Food…?”

“You don’t get food. Now scram!”

Luke ran off towards the woods, screaming.

Was it this weird before they’d all died? I couldn’t recall. I hadn’t known most of Percy’s companions before they became soldiers, but I doubted dying did nothing in regard to their worldly perspectives. I knew from first-hand experience that you had to keep reinventing things to do to not lose motivation in living, because, after a while, everything got bland. Maybe being overdramatic and having such domestic disputes kept them sane.

Then again, maybe Luke was always that weird.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 1905**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	26. The Hunters Commit High Treason

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

Not that I hated the company of the campers, but everyone just kept apologizing for something that I’d forgiven them for five thousand years ago. Well, five for them, I guess, but still! How many more times did I have to say that they weren’t at fault before they let it go? It was over and done with, and no one should mess with the past. I’ve seen enough time travel movies to know that it was something I never wanted to try. That was one thing that I kept off my bucket list (second bucket list?).

Dry needles crunched under my combat boots as I walked through the woods, not in any particular direction. I was just wandering, letting my feet take me to wherever they felt like going. It would give me a chance to clear my head, which I haven’t had enough time to do recently. Too many monsters to fight and too many people to save, like always.

I only stopped when my boot hit something that wasn’t dirt or dead leaves. It felt like stone. Kneeling, I brushed aside the mulch from a stone slab, and immediately, every muscle in my body turned to stone. I couldn’t move.

Staring up at me from the ground wasn’t a slab; it was a headstone. _My_ headstone. I looked around. This was the place where I’d faced the three titans. This was the place where I’d died. The inscription was simple: _‘Perseus Jackson, 1993-2010, Never forget the sacrifices he made.’_

Acid tears stung in my eyes. Wiping them away did nothing. I guess it had never hit me that I was actually _dead_. Like, I was never coming back from this, back to the life I used to have. Then again, what was left of my old life? Not my mother. Not Paul or my baby sister Lyra. They died with the old me, or rather, the old me died with _them_.

There was nothing left to go back to.

Now here I am, immortal, so even if my family was waiting for me in the Underworld, I’d never join them. My soul was destined for the void if it ever did expire, which wasn’t likely. I couldn’t die; my mom wouldn’t allow it. She’d never laid a hand on me in her life, but I had a sneaking suspicion that if I showed up in the Underworld to be with them when I could’ve lived, she’d find some way to beat my ghost to death. A stuttering chuckle bubbled past my lips. Knowing my mom, she’d march right up to Hades’ palace and yell at him until he sent me back.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, but given the rolling emptiness in my stomach, it must’ve been about lunchtime when Crypt whispered, _“There’s someone coming up behind you. Don’t worry; it’s just Artemis.”_

 _“Thanks_ ,” I replied briefly before quickly wiping away my tears, turning to face her. “My lady,” I greeted. I cursed silently, hearing how my voice broke. Why couldn’t I just speak telepathically?

She smiled ever so slightly. Her eyes dipped to my headstone. “You’re thinking about your parents, aren’t you? About Sally?” Her hand reached out so hesitantly but strengthened as I let it fall onto my shoulder. “Do not hide your tears from me, Percy. Any man who cried over the loss of loved ones shows his true nature. There is no reason to be ashamed.”

 _‘I know_ ,’ I thought, ‘ _but that doesn’t make it any easier_.’

She just pulled my back down to my knees in front of the grave, kneeling beside me. We sat in silence.

“Is there anything you would like, my lady?” I asked.

She shook her head, still looking down at my grave. If she didn’t want anything, then why was she here? Surely not to visit my grave. It seemed like no one had visited it in some time, going from how camouflaged it was when I found it. If not that, then why?

“Did you know that I used to come here every morning after that day?” she asked suddenly, catching me off guard.

“What?”

“I used to come here. Many people did, but I’d come early in the morning. To mourn. No one else was here that early.” She choked back a laugh that sounded too much like a sob. “I digress. The real reason I came here was to thank you, Percy.”

“What for?”

Finally looking up from the grave, she met my eyes. Liquid mercury seemed to drip from her irises. Their intensity burned into my soul. “You saved my hunters, even at the expense of your own life. And you suffered for it.” She looked down again, breaking our eye contact.

“As long as you’re safe, my lady, I’d do it again,” I assured her. I felt blood rushing to my cheeks but ignored it. The day was crisp enough for her to believe that it was the cold darkening my cheeks. Hopefully, that was the way she took it if she noticed.

“But…why?” It wasn’t the most eloquent use of her words, but considering her state as a startled stout, I ignored her roughness. “Why would you save them if it meant being captured yourself?”

I just gave a half-grin. “Some things in life, my lady, are more important than the self. Saving your hunters is not something that I will regret, regardless of what came after,” I answered. We met eyes and I stared deeply into her swirling cascades of mercury, willing for her to understand the earnest confession of my words.

She just stared back in silence.

The sun was just beginning to fall beyond the treeline, bathing the dark forest in swathes of red and gold when she said, “We should head back now.” For a second, I couldn’t tell if she included me in that _we_ , but that was before I realized that we were still alone. I nodded.

Standing and brushing the dead needles from my pants, I held out my hand for Artemis. When she took it, I nearly dropped her – _Chaos_! _That_ would have been embarrassing – because a squirrel of electricity jolted through my fingers and ran up my arm. As soon as she was standing, I let go, and the spark vanished. (I could almost imagine it wagging a bushy tail at me, scolding me for being so rude, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. What _was_ that?)

I’d turned away from Artemis after letting go, so I didn’t see what was most likely an offended glare boring into the back of my head.

Without waiting for her, I began to walk back to camp. I had come out here to clear my head, but all I’d done was jumble things up even more. Mom did always say that I was terrible at cleaning my room; I guess my mind was no different.

If Artemis thought my actions were uncouth, she said nothing about it, and I silently thanked her for it. I didn’t mean anything by it, after all, and I could’ve handled it better, but in the heat of the moment, I found myself unable to care about pleasantries. All that time and I’d still achieved nothing in the ways of closure. I recited a chant from Cofando, almost feeling the words scrolling behind my eyes in my meditation, and by the time I reached the end, we were back at camp. It was all I could do to bite back the sigh of disappointment that bubbled up from somewhere within my chest.

“Ah, Perseus. Welcome back, my son. We were just discussing the future of the camp.”

I inclined my head in a half-bow. “Yes, father?”

Chiron stood next to him, as did Dionysus, Queen Hylla, and Reyna, all as representatives of their individual groups.

Chaos’ eyes scanned everyone as Artemis, and I joined the meeting. Then, he spoke, “Our initial plan of uniting all of our forces in separate locations backfired quite spectacularly, as I’m sure you know,” – I winced, a hand rising to my chest as one of my injuries chose that moment to act up. – “so, I’ve decided that we must all once again part ways. Of course, each of these groups is then put into danger, so we must divide up our own soldiers to guard them – and to raise alarm should another attack threaten us.”

I nodded along, briefly running a rollcall in my head of my present soldiers. There were only ten of us, and as much as I wished more could join, ten alone was a very dangerous risk, as having too much astral energy on one world might lead to major issues in the rotational balance and climate – especially if Chaos himself decided to pop in occasionally to check on us.

“We have ten warriors to split among four groups, so, as I see it, we’ll have two guarding the Amazons, two guarding the hunters, and three guarding each of the camps,” I suggested.

Queen Hylla stepped forward, “That’s all well and good, _your highness_ ,” – she said this mockingly, though I could tell it was just friendly teasing. – “But how will you divide up these groups? You only have three females within your current ranks, and I know that _my Amazons_ will not tolerate leaving our protection to any _males._ ”

“Nor will my hunters,” Artemis spoke up. “And that makes four. You’re one short.”

I stuttered, then looked at Chaos helplessly. He just shrugged in a way that said T _his is your problem now. Deal with it._ Just great.

“Um…” I coughed, trying to get into what Luke called _Prince Mode_. “We’ll try our best. For now, I’ll assign Beckendorf, Michael, and Castor to the Greek Camp, and Luke, Lee, and Ethan to the Roman Camp. As for the rest, there’s Zoë, Bianca, Silena, and me. I’ll leave you two to decide who you will take. Does that seem alright to everyone?” I cast my eyes over Hylla and Artemis, seeing them immediately move closer together to discuss options. After them, I met eyes with Chiron, Mr. D, and Reyna, who all just nodded.

Suddenly, Artemis looked up. “What about Calypso? Wasn’t she here before? To heal you?”

I shook my head. “She had to leave. As the head healer in the army, she is needed to supervise the infirmary back at headquarters.” I left out the second reason because I didn’t want to cause a mass panic – _or_ incite any more questions.

Artemis just nodded and went back to whispering with Hylla.

“We’ve decided,” Hylla said, finally. “I will take Silena and Bianca.”

“And I’ll have Zoë and Perseus.”

In my chest, my heart stuttered like a skipping CD track. The _Hunters_? I had to guard _the Hunters_? I mean, neither group seemed to be my better option as a male, but that made reality no less terrifying. At least Zoë would be there to protect me. Maybe I could just at a distance… She could mingle and camp with them, while I just laid down a safe perimeter far, _far_ away from them.

Over Artemis’ shoulder, I could see Zoë standing at a distance, barely containing her laughter. She must’ve heard the whole thing. I scowled. Why was I so afraid? I could do this! I’ve faced many scary things in the past: giants, fire-breathing dragons, even flesh-eating butterflies. _Freaking flesh-eating butterflies_! (I shuddered, unable to imagine whether they were scarier the size of grizzly bears or the size of regular butterflies. I decided not to dwell on that thought for long.) I could do this!

Setting my jaw, I nodded. “Very well,” I said. “Silena and Bianca shall guard the Amazons, while Zoë and…I will accompany Lady Artemis and her hunters.”

Zoë snickered behind her hand. I swear I could hear it, even from this distance.

Looking over at the Hunters, I saw their shocked expressions slowly melt into evil grins (especially Thalia. _Traitor_!) I squirmed under their gaze. Artemis, I could handle. She didn’t seem to hate me as much as she did most other men, and I’d even had a civil conversation with her before, but the rest of the silver-clad archers looked like they were out to get me. Was that the way to treat the guy that just saved their lives? I didn’t think so, but…oh well.

“At least they’re only going to try to kill me…” I muttered.

“That’s the spirit, my boy!” Chaos said with a grin as he clapped me on the shoulder. I staggered only slightly under the sudden weight. He just looked amused by my predicament. “Good luck!” Then he disappeared again.

He wasn’t the only one. The other Angels were already mingling among their assigned groups, happy as can be with their placements. I could even see Luke standing with Annabeth, but it looked strange seeing as they were both twenty-three now. (Chaos, that was strange.) Zoë just grinned and ran off with the Hunters, probably to the archery range, to which I followed them, albeit at a much slower pace. Artemis joined me as I trudged.

“Do you know why I chose you, Perseus?”

“Because there weren’t any other options?” My tongue sliced the air like a knife.

“No…” she dragged out the word to cover a laugh. Great. Now she was laughing at me, too. “It’s because I know that you can and will protect them.”

“Why not choose Bianca, though? She was a Hunter. You could’ve sent me off to the Amazons. At least they tolerate men…somewhat.”

“While that is true, and my hunters do not like males, I would trust no other with this task. I’ve seen how dangerous Destruction is, and like it or not, my Hunt is the smallest group. We need your army’s most skilled warrior, and from what I hear, that just so happens to be you,” she said.

“Very well, my lady,” I said as we arrived.

Artemis strode off to join her hunters at the range while I lagged behind, watching from behind the safety line. I wasn’t sure how _safe_ it would be for me, considering who was shooting, but standing behind it just made me feel better.

“Hey, Kelp Head!” Thalia called, “Help me retrieve my arrows!”

She was one of the only hunters that I tolerated and that tolerated me, so I didn’t see the harm in it. Besides, if she was out there, none of the hunters would be shooting; that was the rule, no matter how accurate they were. We walked together to the targets about seventy-five yards away and began pulling the shafts out of the wooden boards.

“How many arrows are we collecting?” I asked, glancing over at the farther targets. There were a few at the hundred-yard mark and even fewer at the hundred-and-fifty-and-beyond stands.

“All of them,” she said from behind me.

Wait. That was weird. Her voice sounded farther away than I was expecting. I turned, just in time to catch a flash of silver as an arrow streaked straight toward my head. I yelped, ducking. The triple-bladed broadhead parted my hair, whistling in my left ear. I could hear the scraping of metal on metal as it brushed against the crown – still attached to my skull (Thank you very much, Chaos!). There was a _thud!_ as it hit the target behind me.

“What in Order’s high heels?” I shrieked. (Not one of my finer moments, I do admit.) The Hunters were all standing in a row at the shooting line, strings drawn back to their cheeks. I gulped. They were all aiming…at me.

More arrows zipped through the air, flexing and spinning. Silver feathers glinted in the sun as they soared across the field, fluttering too fast for the eye to see. Seven…twelve…no, seventeen arrows flew toward me all at once, closing the seventy-five yards quickly.

I had to think fast. Spinning to the right, I flipped up above the line of arrows as they were almost perfectly level. Grabbing one as it passed me, I twisted the shaft to knock two more off their course. They wobbled to the grass, getting caught in the dirt.

Drawing my own bow was out of the question. Even though I’d gotten better over the long years of training, shooting back at the Hunters was not something I wanted to put on my resume. Instead, I slid my hand down my cloak and pulled, swishing it across my body like Dracula. The remaining arrows lost themselves in the swirling folds of stars.

“What the…?” I heard Thalia breathe from across the field. Well, I didn’t so much as hear it rather than _feel_ it in the intense confusion radiating off of her.

The Hunters immediately stopped firing, but not before I’d taken out half of their arrows, getting them lost in the endless space hidden within my cloak. As soon as they lowered their bows, I sighed. The muscles along my shoulders and back loosened, leaving me wondering when in the last ten minutes they’d turned to stone. _I’m safe_ , I thought.

 _“For now, you mean,”_ Tile whispered in my mind.

I could feel the vibrations in my chest from his groan. _“Yeah. For now. There will be a lot more coming, especially after this,”_ I replied.

Crypt cleared his throat (mind?). _“Perhaps they will be reasonable. Artemis and Zoë will talk some sense into them, I’m sure.”_

 _“Really?”_ I asked, though not really expecting an answer as a young hunter stomped toward me, bow gripped tight in her left hand.

“You stole our arrows! Give them back!” She had blonde hair and grey eyes, and if not for the fact that her hair was platinum instead of liquid honey, I could’ve mistaken her for Annabeth – from the first time I’d met her. The twelve-year-old had the same intense, judgemental anger burning just behind her irises. Her lips were pulled back in an almost animalistic snarl.

I sent a helpless look to Zoë, who just shrugged, before steeling my face and looking back at Annabeth’s mini-me. “It’s not my fault you were all shooting at me! If you want your arrows back, then you’ll have to ask nicely,” I said. “You should be lucky not to be charged with treason for attacking a prince…” I muttered under my breath. Luckily, she didn’t hear me, as she was still about thirty yards away, halfway between me and the rest of the Hunters.

The girl actually growled. “You can forget it! Those arrows belong to us and you’d better give them back!”

Artemis was the one to stop her. She strode right up behind the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning down to whisper something into her ear. I had no idea what she said, but the girl’s eyes widened dramatically. She took a hesitant step backwards, like she wanted to run, but firmly held her ground; the shaking in her hand stopped. Artemis met my eyes.

“Please return my huntresses arrows, Perseus. They will need to keep practicing and preparing should Destruction plot another attack. We are leaving tomorrow morning sharp, so today is the last day for them to use this archery range.” She flashed a smile. “If you’d be so kind,” she said mockingly.

I just grinned back. “Since you asked so nicely, my lady…” With another swish of my cloak, the arrows all reappeared, frozen in the air around me. I spun my finger as if stirring a drink and they swirled together into a school of fish, darting back over to their owners.

Thalia and the rest of her sisters collected their arrows from the mass.

“Thalia!” I called. She looked up and met my eyes. I stared deeply into the stormy electric blue, almost seeing the lightning flashing within them. “You will not shoot at me.” It was not a question. My voice spoke directly into her mind and the minds of all the Hunters. “And none of the Hunters will shoot at me, either. Is that clear?”

She looked at Artemis, who just nodded. The goddess’ expression must’ve been serious because when Thalia looked back at me, she just nodded wordlessly.

Just like that, my carefree grin materialized. “Thanks, Thals.”

Once I was out of the way, the Hunters went back to shooting their arrows, completely ignoring my presence. I guess that’s better than shooting at me.

 _“Indeed,”_ Crypt said, agreeing with me. _“I told you that they would be reasonable.”_

I silently scoffed. _“Yeah right. I felt you trembling just as much as me. You were scared, too; Admit it.”_

_“Perhaps I shall. Since bonding with you, Tile and I have taken the immense risk of dying. You may be immortal, but you can still die in battle, just like those Hunters, and if you die, we die with you.”_

_“Then why did you bond with me in the first place?”_ I inquired, already knowing the answer. Both he and Tile remained silent. _“Just as I thought.”_

I was interrupted from our silent argument by a light tugging on my sleeve, just hard enough to not be the wind. Rosie was the source, and her eyes were bright red like she’d been crying.

“Rosie!” I cried, falling to my knees to embrace her. She buried her head into my neck, body shaking and breath hitching as a new wave of sobs overtook her. “What’s wrong?” She didn’t move, didn’t speak, just shook like a leaf in my arms. I wrapped my cloak around both of us to give her a security blanket and kept my arms firmly around her small body. I wasn’t good with comforting people, but this felt like a situation where she’d need a solid, firm hold to keep her grounded in reality.

Finally, she pulled away. Snot was dripping down her face, mixing with her salty tears. “The-the other campers were-were being m-mean to me. They-they pu-pushed me and call-called me names," she said between gasps and sobs.

I bit back Tile’s growl as it rose in my throat. "Who was it?" I asked in a soft voice.

"I…I dunno. S-some boys," she stuttered. Then, she threw herself back into my shoulder, overtaken by a new assault of briny tears.

I picked her up and brought her over to Artemis, who was sitting on a bench over to the side of the archery range, watching her hunters shoot bullseyes at varying distances. There was a small, proud smile on her face.

I sat next to her, Rosie on my lap. Rosie had stopped crying, but her face was still red, and her eyes were puffy.

"Artemis," I greeted calmly.

She turned to me, a look of worry crossing her face as she saw Rosie. "What do you need, Perseus?" she asked.

Rosie looked at Artemis. I answered for her. "Some campers were being mean to her," I said, trying to keep the rough edge out of my voice. "I was thinking that, if it’s okay with Demeter, she could come along with us."

"With the hunters?" Rosie asked, pulling back and looking at me with curious eyes.

Artemis looked a bit uncertain. “She’s still pretty young, Perseus, so I’m not sure it would be good for her to come with us in such a dangerous time. And I wouldn’t accept her oath, either; she’d far too young to join my Hunters as of this moment.”

“Not a fulltime Hunter, just coming to camp with the girls and maybe learn a few tips and tricks in archery. She can decide if she wants to really be a Hunter in a few years. Besides, I’ll make sure nothing gets to her; you know that” I vowed.

After thinking it over for a moment, Artemis nodded. “Very well. I will ask Demeter, then. Why don’t you make sure the Hunters are all packed and everything is ready to go?” She held out her hand. “Come along, Rosie; let’s go ask your mother if you can come with us, as long as you still want to come?”

“Oh, yes! Yes, I do!” Rosie immediately jumped off my lap and took Artemis’ hand. They just walked off without hearing my answer to Artemis’ question.

“I guess I’m getting everything ready,” I said quietly to myself. “Wait. Where’s Haetros?”

After about half an hour with no luck, I went into the forest, finding a small clearing. Pushing aside a bush, I saw Haetros in the clearing...but he was not alone. He was lying together with the white alpha she-wolf of Artemis’ pack – Runa, I think; their front paws were intertwined, his head resting right against hers in the soft grass.

I slowly backed away, feeling awkward for walking in on them. Those Aphrodite kids better not find out about this or they’ll start calling them some weird hybrid name like Rutros or Haetruna or something. (This better not be the start of Shadowpackshipping, I swear…)

*******

**Words in Chapter: 4165**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	27. Dress For the Job You Have...Or People Will Die

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

The Hunters were, in fact, ready to hightail it out of Camp Half-Blood as soon as I informed them that we were leaving. Not two seconds after I said anything, they all had their backpacks piled out front of their cabin, eye on me expectantly. What, was I supposed to carry them all? I don’t think that’s how “guardianship/protector” works…

 _“You’re protecting them from aching backs and sore shoulders,”_ Tile hissed, laughing.

 _“Yeah, yeah. Ha, ha,”_ I replied. In case you couldn’t tell, I didn’t find his comment amusing in any way.

I was saved from any further teasing – from him and the Hunters – by Artemis showing up. “Is everyone ready to leave?” she asked.

I didn’t know what I expected us to do. Maybe just walk out of the camp like normal mortals or something, so when the Hunters gathered in a circle around their pile of backpacks like they were sacrificing them to summon a demon (wrong mythology – as far as they knew) I was really thrown for a loop. They all joined hands next, though none of them seemed to want to touch me – understandably – so I was stuck between Thalia and Rosie, who’d come back with Artemis with what I’d assumed to be express permission from her mother to travel with us.

The next second, we were no longer in camp, but deep in a forest. Honestly, we were probably somewhere in Canada (Frank would be proud), far away from any sign of civilization, but I was too lazy to check. Just to let you know, as a member of Chaos and Order’s army, I had a natural talent of knowing exactly where in the universe I am – call it an internalized UPS (no; not the delivery service: Universal Positioning System).

All around us, tall coniferous trees boasted lush green needles, standing taller than the giants we fought when Gaea decided to wake up from her beauty rest way back when. This truly was a place of the wild, with no trace of pollution in the air, only fresh pine and cool wind. Every one of my senses perked up; Earth was one of the few planets that my advanced auditory, olfactory, and other senses could be overwhelmed, though most of the time it was in a bad way. In places like this, I could truly appreciate the purity of nature as it interacted with the planetary forces beyond its atmospheric borders.

To me, this wilderness only smelled like the cleansing vacuum of space – for those who haven’t become intergalactic beings of great power, I do not recommend going into this aforementioned vacuum; it may lead to health problems in the future. Besides that, it cleared my sinuses and let me just sit back and breathe relief into every knot of anxiety. Believe me, being Prince of the Universe promises a lot of that; it’s another thing that I do not recommend taking on lightly.

The sun moved above us, casting a warm autumn glow through the trees, like honeyed pastries and other sweet treats. Pity briefly rose in my chest for those mortals who could not experience the subtle shifts in the sun’s presence as the seasons changed, but it passed.

“Girls, you know what to do.”

The Hunters immediately grabbed their backpacks, an impossible task in my eyes as all the packs looked identical and set up their tents with the same impeccable efficiency that I’d witnessed the last time I was in their company. I, too, set up my tent, manually and therefore much slower than the rest of them, because it gave me something to do. Also, once I was done, I’d feel much more accomplished than if I just used my powers. Other tasks, such as collecting firewood and setting up teams of who would hunt, who would patrol, and who would care for the wolves, were divided quickly as well. Most were finished before I hammered in the last peg of my tent.

Lunch was a short affair after that, where the hunters were gathered around the fire, roasting deer and rabbit on long skewers while I sat off to the side of them, nibbling on my food. It tasted great, to be sure, but I guess the prospect of camping with a bunch of girls who hate your guts for an unforeseeable length of time does a number on your appetite; I just couldn’t bring myself to eat. Besides, I busied myself with watching the woods for any suspicious movement.

Just as lunch was ending – and I was beginning to think that this assignment would be an easy one – the GD alarm on my communicator rang. My blood ran cold.

A screen of mist appeared next to me.

“My prince,” a voice greeted from the other side. They spoke softly, though their words held tension, like a series of rubber bands tied around a watermelon just waiting to snap. I dreaded the ensuing mess of their loaded greeting.

I glanced over immediately to see one of my trusted officers and advisors, Tesros, from the second quadrant. The flames burning atop their head were bright blue, a sign of their urgent fear. Their hands were in a similar state, shining so brightly that I could barely distinguish them from one another.

“I heard the alarm; what seems to be the problem?” I asked.

Tesros just burned brighter blue – the fire spirit equivalent of a humanoid’s skin paling – as they recited terrible news. “Sir, we have a dire situation. The commanding governor of planet Setorji has threatened galactic war. For yet undiscovered reasons, the ambassador banquet did not go as planned. He has also refused to tell us why and refuses to speak to anyone other than you." Tesros spoke with a panicked expression on his face. His red eyes were jittery, completely unlike his usual controlled aura. "He has given us one kiran to retrieve you."

“I shall speak with him. Please, ready our forces lest I fail.”

“Yes, sir.” Tesros nodded, ending the message. The mist dispersed.

“My lady, I must go.” I didn’t even wait for Artemis’ response as I stood, abandoning my rabbit-kebab and retreating to my tent to change. This meeting would require the utmost formality, so with a sigh, I began dressing in my royal garb.

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

“My lady, I must go.”

I’d barely even looked up before Percy disappeared into his black tent, probably to get ready to meet the governor of the planet that strange being spoke of. Earlier, the charged tension between Percy and my Hunters was almost stifling, but this hadn’t been the break I’d hoped for. The Hunters had fallen silent since hearing the message, all probably dreading the same thing as I was: the threatened intergalactic war. Was this what Percy had to face on a daily basis? I knew that he was the prince and that he’d probably been to a few important meetings, but I guess I never really understood what that position meant. He was responsible for keeping the peace through the entire galaxy? Or the universe? Just how far did his domain expand? And how did he keep up with it all? Surely, there were thousands – if not, millions – of other worlds out there at least; how could he keep tabs on all of them?

The army must be larger than I imagined. Far larger. The being in the message – Tesros, I believe Percy called him…her…them – seemed interesting to say the least, for I’d never seen anything like them in all my millennia. Of course, being from another planet, maybe even another galaxy, meant that obviously I’d never seen anything like them, but it made me wonder just how different other species were. Humans, of course, were modelled after the gods, who were born to the Titans, and before them, the Primordial beings, and before them, the creators, but just how different were other planets from earth? Did Chaos and Order even look the way they did or were we just perceiving them in a way that made sense to us?

I must’ve been quite lost in my thoughts because I hadn’t even realized that Percy had returned until Thalia shook my shoulder. I looked up and my breath caught in my throat.

Mixing a three-piece suit with a ceremonial Roman emperor toga shouldn’t have worked, and yet, on Percy, it did, and then some. His black trousers hung unmoving and elegant underneath the draping fabric of his toga, which was pinned under armour that was so artful I could tell it was never meant to set into battle. The breastplate was coupled with two fanciful gauntlets, both matched and made with swirling silver metal. Resting gently in his hair was his crown – which was still attached to his head from Chaos earlier. Would he ever be rid of it? His wings hung behind him, almost becoming one with his toga if not for the transition of fabric to feathers, and the silver armour that lined the ridge of them like the vertebrae of a dragon. The seafoam colour of his eyes – which I’d only just realized he’d regained since his death – had darkened, as if matching the seriousness of his upcoming task. They swirled with the promise of unimaginable power.

“Wow, Kelp Head!” Thalia exclaimed. “You look…hot!”

Percy’s blank mask broke for a grin, and I instantly felt relief that he was still the same under all that armour. “Hot like a sun god?” he asked.

That statement made no sense to me, but obviously Thalia understood, because her face immediately flushed, and she scowled. “Shut up…”

He waved her off. “This isn’t the outfit I’d choose for myself on any old occasion, but…duty calls, I guess. If I don’t, people might die.” On that wonderfully depressing note, he swiped his hand through the air, and it rippled like water. A portal appeared. “I’ll be back soon. Stay out of trouble.” Then, he stepped through and disappeared.

*******

I didn’t know how long a kiran was, but approximately half an hour had passed since Percy disappeared and I was getting worried. Haetros and Runa, who hadn’t come with us during the initial teleportation, appeared shortly after Percy left, and asked where he was (or Runa did, seeing as no one other than Percy and Runa could communicate with Haetros – don’t ask me why), to which I answered, “Stopping an intergalactic war.”

Haetros didn’t seem too worried, seeing as he just shrugged, plunked himself down in the grass, and went to sleep. He obviously had confidence in Percy’s diplomatic powers than I did. To be fair, I’d never seen Percy using these powers in action, so I tried to take Haetros’ lack of concern as a good sign. That didn’t stop me from pacing up and down our campsite until I wore tracks in the grass, however.

When Percy finally did reappear, it was like someone had poured seawater down the back of my neck – both soothing and startling. He walked right past me as soon as he stepped out of the portal and strode, almost marching, to his tent. Haetros, now awake, followed, but not before giving Runa a gentle nudge on the cheek with his nose.

From the quick glance I’d gotten of Percy, he didn’t look worse for wear, though my heart stopped a moment as I thought I caught the sight of a trickle of blood running down his breastplate. However, as he walked past me, I blinked, and it vanished, so perhaps it was just my imagination?

“Percy?” I asked as his tent flaps fluttered shut. I walked over to the tent (with less gusto than Percy, mind you). “Percy? You alright?”

There was no answer.

“May I come in?”

Nothing more than a soft grumble replied, and I took that as a ‘yes’, so I moved the flaps aside.

I didn’t have an initial idea of what his tent would look like, so there was nothing to compare it to, and yet it still managed to surprise me. It was just an ordinary tent on the inside. It wasn’t any bigger than it appeared to be, nor any fancier, nor fit for a prince. It was just a plain, two-person tent – or at the very least, appeared to be one. With that in mind, Percy was just laying on the floor, face down into his sleeping bag right in front of me with Haetros as a fuzzy body pillow right next to him. From here, with his armour strewn in pieces against one fabric wall, he looked less like a prince and more like a new adult with a bad hangover.

“You want to talk about it?” I asked, only to be met with another groan. I crossed my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Another groan, longer this time.

I sighed, taking a step and a half forwards so that I was right next to him. I crouched down. “You’ll have to speak up,” I said. “What happened out there?”

“No…”

I sighed yet again, letting my eyes raise to the ceiling of the tent. “Percy, that makes no sense.”

He rolled over onto his back. “If I had been just a few seconds later, there would have been another war." He sighed. "No matter where I go, no matter where I look, war and conflict haunt me. They're everywhere." He closed his eyes. "I just can't keep up with it all."

“Then why do you fight Percy? If you're saying that it never stops, then why do you fight to stop it? What’s the point?” I asked.

Percy cast his eye up at me, smiling weakly. “Because. The war against evil is a battle that can never be won but must always be fought. It keeps all the worlds in balance.”

I must’ve had a stupid grin on my face because he laughed. Then again, maybe he was just laughing at the absurdity of his life. He’d just stopped an intergalactic war, after all. Who else could say that they did that on a regular basis? Laughter was just the natural response to an event like that – how else could you stay sane?

I was about to reply when a scream rose from outside. I jolted to my feet, nearly hitting my head against the ceiling. "We're under attack."

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2390**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	28. Death by Butterflies. What a Way to Go

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

The second I stepped foot outside of my tent, I froze. Though the army of monsters wasn’t very large, it had quite a variety. First and foremost, I saw my old buddy, the Minotaur. Flanking him were a few hellhounds and dracaena, but it was manageable. The only problem I could see was The Swarm. (No, that wasn’t an error; when I saw Swarm, I mean _swarm_!)

They were terrifying, but I steeled my nerves and drew my sword. As long as the Hunters dealt with the rest of the monsters, I could face these beasts.

The girls were huddled together in the centre of the camp; perhaps they’d been taken by surprise and herded before regaining ground. For the moment, they weren’t doing too badly, but the tides would soon turn, and they would all die if I didn’t step in. Rosie was in the centre, hiding. She was only six, barely old enough to start training. At least she was safe, for now.

“You flank left,” I said, turning my head to glance back at Artemis. “Help them with the monsters.”

“And what will you do?” she asked. She drew her hunting knives.

“I’ll handle the butterflies.”

I didn’t get the chance to see the look on her face before jumping into action, but it must’ve been crazy. Then again, she didn’t know what I did about these creatures. On earth, butterflies were seen as dainty insects, fluttering about on the breeze. Not these ones. I shuddered just at the thought of them, and here I was, charging into battle against a swarm.

I vaguely registered Artemis to my left, turning monsters into dust. She was starting with the biggest ones – an intimidation tactic, and not too bad for strategy, either. She would save the hunters from the brunt of the attack, but all of that would be for nought if I didn’t take care of the main offenders. Once they began, there was no stopping them.

I lunged into the mess of flesh-eating butterflies.

They flew around me, jagged teeth digging through my skin. I didn’t use my sword; that would be useless. Instead, I had brass knuckles, charged with millions of volts. One swing and the electricity hopped from bug to bug, but there were still too many. I could hardly see past their wings, all bright colours to daze and confuse their prey. Glowing pulses flashed before my eyes, trying to blind me, and I could feel the razor blades of their wings cut gash after gash into my arms and legs.

Seven seethed around my hand, ripping through me. I could feel acid against my bones. It sunk deeply into my open wounds, mixing with the blood that flowed out of me.

I spun around, clapping my hands together to release another burst of electricity. Several dozen dropped like stones, burnt into blackened bits. The final few were hissing like serpents, and with lightning-fast movements, were swirling around my head. They pulled at my hair, clawed at my eyes. I brought my hands up, but every time, they moved away smoothly, like a school of fish around a desperate shark.

Finally, I’d had enough. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t use Voidfyre anymore while I was on earth – not unless it was an emergency, anyway – because it took far too much of my energy and I couldn’t afford to be at anything less than my full power, but these butterflies were the worst of the worst.

Closing my eyes to regain my center, I breathed into the pain of their gnashing teeth until it vanished, and when I opened my eyes again, everything exploded into flames around me. It writhed through the air, striking like a nest of snakes from around the crown still nestled against my scalp.

The fire was dark, like the deep vacuum of space, and made quick work of the butterflies and all the rest of the monsters, but it left me with a feeling of emptiness and exhaustion like I’d just swallowed a litre of liquid nitrogen after running a marathon through the Sahara. Dark spots clouded my vision and more butterflies appeared – though these ones were of the metaphysical variety and stayed inside my head, stuffing cotton around my brain.

“Percy?” That was Artemis’ voice. I think she caught me when I fell because in seconds her voice went from far away to right next to my ear. I winced at how loud it was. “Are you okay?”

I groaned. “Just tired. I’ll be fine. Is anyone hurt?” My vision danced with both red and black spots now.

“Only you, Percy. You’re…your arm is mangled. What were those things?”

“Flesh-eating butterflies. Nasty.” Looking down at my arm, I saw that she was right. It was…mangled. The spot where the butterflies had swarmed my wrist was nearly gone, exposing perfectly clean bones and tendons. “Ow…”

“ _Ow_ is right, Kelp Head!” Thalia appeared across from Artemis and I grinned.

“Hey, Thals.”

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

I didn’t know exactly when Percy blacked out, but it was somewhere between greeting Thalia and healing his arm because the latter didn’t happen. Instead, we had to lug him across the campsite to the infirmary tent that the other girls had just set up. We put him down on one of the extra-padded sleeping bags and Kate, one of my nieces, began working on his wrist.

Kate seemed to be at a loss. She gazed intently at Percy’s arm before giving me a helpless shrug. “I’ve never had to deal with this before,” she said, “but I think all it needs is a good, thorough cleaning and then a few squares of ambrosia. Other than that… I can’t regrow skin.”

I nodded. “Do what you have to do.”

I found myself attacked by worried hunters the moment I left the infirmary.

“Will he be alright, milady?” Trinity asked. She stared up at me with wide green eyes. “Milady?”

I was frozen in shock to see them all there. Just this morning they’d been avoiding Perseus as if he was the Plague, and here they were, all worried about him. My heart warmed to see little Rosie with a clump of wildflowers clutched in her small hands. Dirt crumbled from the roots.

“He’s not like the others,” Ivy explained. She must’ve been able to read my expression. “We’ve all heard the stories about him, milady, and he just saved us. We have to give him at least a little respect.”

I felt Thalia emerge from the tent behind me. “He’ll be fine.”

“I saw those butterflies he was fighting. They weren’t pretty. They were scary,” Rosie said suddenly. Then, she thrust forward the handful of flowers. “Could you give these to him for me?”

“Why don’t you come in here and give them to him yourself?” Thalia asked gently. She took Rosie by her free hand and led her past me, into the tent.

Soon, the rest of the Hunters dispersed, leaving me on my own in the entrance of the infirmary, not knowing what to do. Percy would recover; it was only a matter of waiting patiently. Even if the ambrosia did nothing to help with his wrist, as soon as he woke up, he’d be able to heal himself, right? Until then, I’d just have to wander.

My first concern – after Percy, of course – was how Destruction’s monsters found us so quickly. Percy had made a barrier around our camp to protect us from his detection, but perhaps it failed. Perhaps Destruction was far too powerful to oppose, and we’d just done ourselves a disservice by splitting up. He could pick us off, one by one, after all.

I passed Percy’s tent, which brought me back to the reality of our campsite. Several of the Hunters’ tents had collapsed during the fight, and there were flecks of blood and mountains of monster dust staining the grass everywhere, not leaving room for even a blade of green to shine through. Luckily, it was mostly dust. I didn’t know what I would do if more of my Hunters were injured. They were my family, and if I lost any more of them to this enemy…

I steeled my nerves and set about fixing the camp. A few of the Hunters had already begun to do so and were surprised when I joined them in righting a tent on its poles.

“Let’s get everything fixed up quickly,” I said.

We made quick work of the tents.

“Chores are cancelled tonight; I don’t want anyone leaving this campsite.”

*******

**Words in Chapter: 1425**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	29. Something Sinister

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

_I have to get out of here. Fast!_

My thoughts were racing, nearly outmatched by my feet, which flew swiftly below me. I didn’t know where I was, or where I was going, but it didn’t matter. All I knew was that I _had to keep running_. Running straight ahead without stopping. Without looking back. I couldn’t _risk_ looking back. It was closing in.

Something was chasing me. I couldn’t see what, but an unquenchable fear gripped me. It was like a rope, anchored deep inside my chest, pulling me forward and _away_ from whatever was following just behind. I had to run. I had to _get away_.

Running faster, I felt my heart rapidly throbbing. Beneath me, the forest floor was damp, and the tree stretched up around and above me, reaching toward me with creeping hands. They were closing in, too, catching on my clothes and ripping at the fabric. Thorns whipped at my face.

Just then, a root sprang up out of the darkness. My run turned to a stumble. I went down. Dirt rushed up to greet me, breaking around my arms and legs, and it _hurt_. Why weren’t my godly powers working? I saw ichor trickling down my leg. How could that be?

Where was Percy? He was supposed to protect me.

I normally wouldn’t want protection – from anyone, let alone a male, but a low, rumbling growl filled my ears, and I shuddered. It was getting closer. I couldn’t do anything but curl up and hope it didn’t see me in the darkness.

The trees, all cast in shadows, parted for a colossal black _beast_. Its eyes glowed like hot embers, teeth hungering for blood, _my_ blood.

Then, there was another sound. The crunch of boots. I rose, but a sudden flash of pain through my ankle brought me down again.

“Well, well.” It was Destruction. “What do we have here? A proud huntress on her knees?” He flashed a callous grin. “Right where she belongs.”

The anger that burned within me grew hotter than any fear, letting adrenaline course through my veins. “Why you-!” I snarled, rising to my feet.

Sharp claws met my shoulders, pulling me down again. They were long, at least four inches of sharp, black keratin, but when I looked over my shoulder to see the beast, it was Destruction smirking down at me. He leered, and in the darkness, I could almost see that his teeth were sharpened into points. His eyes glowed red.

He pushed me back into the dirt.

“Percy…” I whispered though I was sure he couldn’t hear me. “Please come. I can’t fight him on my own…”

Destruction leaned back – in front of me again – and laughed. “How mighty of you. Go ahead! Cry out for your _hero_ to come save you! It’s all you’re good for; you’ll always be the damsel in distress!”

Fury rose again, but this time, I didn’t act. I _couldn’t_ act. I may be proud, but I wasn’t stupid. I wouldn’t rise to his bait. I met his eye with a challenging glare instead. “I’m no damsel,” I said. “Just…make it quick.”

He raised his sword, which gleamed, just like his teeth. If I squinted, the sword almost disappeared, leaving a hand of razor-edged claws. “As you wish, my dear,” he said.

“Percy…where are you?”

Then, I woke up.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 560**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	30. Haunted

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

The scream died on my lips the moment I realized where I was. In my tent. _Safe_.

I sat up, flinging aside the furs as cold sweat trickled down my back. My soaked shirt hugged tightly, chafing my skin. I glanced around. The tent was quiet and dark, with only the dim, soft crackling of the fuel-less fire in the centre for light. In that light, the furs on my walls writhed and danced, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Absolutely nothing.

Later, at breakfast, the Hunters must’ve known something was up. I’d arrived late, after all. I _never_ arrive late. It was something like the ocean being orange or my brother showing up without being annoying. It just didn’t happen. So, of course, as I joined them around the central fire and took a plate of berries and smoked ham, they all looked up.

Despite all that, it was Percy who spoke – still separated from the Hunters as he sat beyond the circle, on a stump. “Milady,” he said in a soft tone, “Is everything alright? You seem a bit disoriented this morning.” His plate sat forgotten in his lap and had I felt more like myself, I would’ve laughed upon seeing Haetros snatch his pancakes.

I sat and immediately began cutting into my ham. “Nothing. I’m fine,” I assured them.

Percy just frowned, and my hunters looked unconvinced, but the issue was quickly swept aside as Percy looked down just in time to watch his filched flapjacks disappearing down Haetros’ gullet. “Hey!” My Hunters all laughed as Percy dropped his plate in defeat, letting his friend lick up the syrup, because “he might as well finish the job”. And thus, the subject of my lateness was dropped.

In the end, Percy just summoned himself a new plate of pancakes, this time _not_ stolen by his hungry companion, and ate those. As I ate, I’m not embarrassed to admit I watched them interact because I’d never seen anything like it. The duo was just too interesting to ignore.

They didn’t speak – not in the traditional sense. Instead, they spoke with their eyes, with glances that – to me – held no meaning. What annoyed me to no end was _not_ _knowing_. How did they actually communicate? I’d often seen Percy…zone out, for lack of a better term; just stare into space only to snap back to reality with new clarity, as if he’d searched the far reaches of his mind for an answer that had been alluding him. He was just so different from how he’d been before his death, not only in stature and skill but in personality. Sure, he was the same old caring boy I remembered – filled with kindness for people who didn’t deserve his loyalty – but underneath, just below the surface, there was something else lurking. Something… _dangerous_. It sent my instincts on edge, making the hairs at the nape of my neck prickle. In his eyes, I saw growth, sure, but there was wisdom, too, a pearl of wisdom that didn’t come from one of his age. It made me think…that perhaps Percy wasn’t the only one in there.

I snapped my gaze back down to my – now cold – ham as Percy stood, excusing himself. Sneaking a glance around, I saw some of my Hunters doing the same, pointedly staring at their food. So, perhaps I wasn’t the only one who noticed?

Soon enough, we’d all finished our meals. The Hunters set about clearing the camp to prepare us for the journey ahead. Thalia joined me by the campfire.

“So, where are we headed?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, sinking my hands into the pockets of my silver jeans. “We don’t have any hunting missions, and I doubt any monsters are just roaming on their own with this war rising in tension. The only reason we’re out here is because the girls were too crowded at the camp… _and_ because splitting up is our current tactic to confuse the enemy.”

“In other words, we need to be unpredictable.”

I nodded.

Thalia was silent for a moment. Then, she turned to me with the largest grin I’d seen on her face in years. “What about Percy?”

“What about him?”

Her eyes jolted to something behind me before meeting my eyes again. The intensity in them was just slightly muted by the sheer glee radiating from her face. I chanced a look.

Percy was behind me, adorned in his armour, though not the same armour as yesterday. He was free of the crown – which had obviously only been temporarily welded to his head, thank the Fates – but the expression on his face was every bit as serious as he’d been before going to talk down the rising war.

I turned back to Thalia. “What about him?” I repeated.

“I know you like him. You couldn’t stop staring at him during breakfast. And ever since he and the other warriors arrived you’ve been pretty absent from the group.”

I scowled. “That’s not true!” Even as I said it, I knew it was. Somehow, after millennia of hating everything to do with men, Percy had crept unknowingly into my heart, reminding me that it was still there, beating.

“Sure, it’s not,” she said, giving me a look that told me she knew I was lying. “But Percy’s a good guy, anyway, so if he doesn’t already have somebody waiting for him back on Planet Numero Uno, he’s going to get snatched up quickly, and you know it.”

“No, he won’t. Percy’s not like that,” I found myself saying. Whether or not I had an edge of jealousy in my voice, I will never admit.

“Either way, milady, know that if you _do_ happen to like him, I approve. And so do the others.”

Her words were probably meant to console me, but they did nothing but settle in my chest, twisting sharply. If my Hunters had noticed my feelings towards Percy, then they must mean something – they _must_ be real, but that meant I’d have to face myself, which was something I _really_ didn’t want to do.

Why weren’t they upset with me? I mean, after so many years of preaching that men were the scum of the earth, years of out casting Hunters like Callisto for deserting their oaths, wasn’t I a hypocrite for falling prey to the same fault? I’d fallen _in love_ with a man. That confession alone, even if it was in my own mind, made me want to crawl into the deepest, darkest cave and bury my head in my hands. I wanted to hide away from the world, away from the judging glares that I would surely receive.

“But what about my oath?” I whispered. My words were so quiet that even I had trouble hearing them.

Thalia’s retreating steps were the only thing I got in return. After quickly checking that she wasn’t currently marching up to Percy – and thank the gods, she wasn’t – I sighed. We had to leave; the Hunters were finished with the tents.

Our next campsite was closer to the river and much further upstream. A vast waterfall crashed down just a short trek away, filling out into a clear, deep pool that was perhaps twenty metres across. Cliffs rose on either side of the falls, creating a private inlet for the water to gather before spilling over the large stones that ringed the pool. It would be a nice spot for a swim.

Just as quickly as they’d disassembled the camp earlier, the tents rose again.

Percy nodded his head. “I have some important business to take care of. My wards are up just beyond the waterfall. You’ll be alerted by anything entering or leaving, so you’ll know when I return,” he said. “Should you need me for anything, just call.” Then, he vanished, just like before.

I briefly wondered what business he had but cast the thought aside. He was a prince; he had many, many important matters to take care of constantly. It wouldn’t do to think too hard about what this particular task may be.

“Let’s go to the pool,” I announced. “I could do with some relaxing.”

*******

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Around me, everything was calm and quiet. The nightlife of the forest settled in around us, and yet, in my tent, I tossed and turned in my blankets.

Nothing felt right.

My head throbbed. My neck ached. My pillows felt like they’d been stuffed with rocks instead of feathers, and the furs draped over me had become layers of poison oak. What if I had that dream again?

Gods don’t typically have dreams. Then again, gods don’t typically need sleep, either. I just found that when splitting myself to lead my hunters, attend to my worldly duties, and pull the moon across the sky all at once, a peaceful rest went a long way. But this rest wouldn’t be peaceful. Not if I couldn’t get that _nightmare_ out of my head. Every second thinking about that horrid man from my dream, my heart rate increased. I rolled onto my heart, clutching one pillow over my face. I bit back a scream of frustration. I wouldn’t get to sleep. I just knew it.

Maybe Percy could help. I didn’t want to wake him but talking to him would definitely calm my nerves. And, true to his faults, he’d sacrifice his own sleep for my peace of mind. Without knowing what I was doing, I was suddenly out of bed and dressed, my bow and quiver at the ready in case of danger.

Percy’s tent was on the edge of the campsite, just like last time. It was just like Percy to be considerate of the Hunters’ personal space and boundaries, but then again, he could also have set his tent this far to protect himself from them. It could go either way.

“Percy?” I whispered as I reached his tent. “Percy? Are you awake?”

There was no answer. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but there wasn’t so much as a groan from within.

“Percy?” I called again, a little louder. More silence. Even if I strained my ears, I couldn’t detect anything. He was probably deep asleep. Doubt clawed at my chest. It wrapped previously idle fingers around my ribs and pulled. Something felt _off_. Something…something felt wrong. Then, my eyes caught it. The zipper of his tent was undone.

I pushed aside the loose curtain, my heart hammering in my chest. In the darkness, I saw his sleeping bag askew on the floor, empty. He wasn’t there.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 1770**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	31. Mysteries of the Midnight Hour

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

My heart stuttered as an invisible hand reached into my chest and wrapped around it. The breath in my throat all gathered into one impenetrable mass.

Where could he be?

“Artemis?”

I spun around. There, crouched in the entrance of his tent, was Percy. Both of his eyebrows were scrunched together on his forehead.

“Where were you?” I demanded, careful to keep my voice as a whisper as to not wake anyone else up. The dumbfounded look that he gave me almost made up for nearly giving me a heart attack. Almost.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “I told you earlier that I had business to take care of. Prince of the Universe, remember? Believe it or not, I actually have to do stuff to keep everything from falling apart.” He cracked a grin as he reached up to scratch the back of his head.

Oh.

I guess I worked myself up for absolutely no reason at all. Maybe I assumed he’d be back before nightfall, but he’d never told us what he had to do, so I reasonably couldn’t know how long it would take. Still, it just seemed to anticlimactic.

“You’ve been on edge the past few days. That’s understandable. I think Destruction has us all on our toes, just waiting for his next attack, you know?” He looked away. “Honestly, I was kind of avoiding sleeping again anyway. He’s…been sending me dreams to keep me up at night.” He shuddered as darkness flashed behind his eyes.

I nearly gasped. Percy had faced so much. What could Destruction possibly be showing him that scared him so much? I didn’t even try to picture it. “I’ve been having nightmares, too,” I confessed, looking away. It was stupid, especially after what Percy just told me, but admitting to a weakness still makes my skin crawl. Taking a deep breath, I elaborated, “I don’t know if it was Destruction, or I’ve just been doing it to myself, but I’ve been having dreams about him coming after me. I… I had no powers and he had claws and fangs and…” I trailed off, unable to continue, lest the tears in my eyes take over. I forced them down.

Suddenly, Percy’s hand was on my shoulder. I tensed; my whole body became stiff as a board.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

I gladly took the opportunity.

As soon as we were outside again, I was able to take a breath. The cables around my chest were loosening. Night air wrapped around me with a gentle caress; the wind played with my air as it danced by. All around us, there was the odd chirp. We were, after all, in the wilderness, where I felt most at home. Sometimes, it was the only place I could relax.

We walked in silence, away from the camp but still staying within the borders Percy’s set with his shield. He didn’t ask, nor did I feel ready to tell him, about my dream. At the edge of the field, we settled down on a rock. The waterfall rushed across from us, spilling between two overhanging cliffs continuously. I envied it greatly for its unquestioned ability to keep flowing, to keep falling, and yet never land because wasn’t that the very nature of a waterfall? To fall eternally but never reach the bottom? It fell and fell and fell, and yet remained at the top always, without ever looking back.

Percy leaned back. His wings were splayed out, completely relaxed for the first time. “In my dream, Destruction prays on my worst fear,” he said quietly. “He twists my soul with the images he plants in my mind, I can feel it. I can feel his hand reaching in to pull out my heart, but there is nothing I can do to stop him. It’s…all I can do to not believe his lies when I finally do wake.” He watched the waterfall for several seconds before meeting my eyes directly. “Seeing you every day helps. I can wake up and see how strong you are for your hunters. You’re their leader like I am for the others.”

The bubble that had settled in my chest since we left the tent suddenly burst, filling me with warmth, like a nice hot mug of tea. At least he’d looked away again because I knew I couldn’t hide the blush that travelled up from my chest. How could he be so sincere and kind all at once?

He jumped up from the rock, spreading his wings. I stiffened, glancing around. My hand moved to the hilt of my dagger on its own, expecting an attack. However, when I looked at Percy’s face, he was grinning.

“Would you like to go hunting with me, Artemis? Maybe it’ll get your mind off of your dream.” He held out his hand for me to take. “Nothing serious, but just a bit of prowling the woods to calm your nerves.” He chuckled at the end, apparently amused by his own joke.

I had to forcibly stop myself from giggling as I took his hand. A new feeling swelled under my skin, giving me goosebumps. I’d never felt this feeling before, I’d spent enough time on Olympus (around Aphrodite) to know what it was. I was giddy. How could I not be? Hunting in the woods with Percy Jackson? It had me positively _swooning_.

Gods, how could he do this to me?

I drew my bow, trying to distract myself with the wonder of how he would handle the activity. He had a longbow of his own – a glorious creation of polished black wood with silver etchings, all held together by a silver bowstring – but Percy Jackson had always been famous for his inability to shoot. I wonder how his many years of training had changed that.

Even as we stalked through the woods, I couldn’t help glancing at his face, taking in the complete concentration in his eyes as they flickered through the darkness. They practically _glowed_ with ethereal power, like a cat’s. It made him look…alien. He moved silently, even with the bulk of his wings, which I hardly even noticed were there half the time, as he handled them so well. It made me wonder again… For us, it had only been five years, but how long had it been for him? Maybe he’d mentioned it before, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall an exact number.

The seriousness in his eyes unnerved me almost as much as their playfulness invigorated me. Looking into them, it was hard to believe that they could ever appear differently, but I’d seen firsthand as they softened with kindness, lit up with amusement, even crystallized in anger. My heart skipped a beat with every smile that quirked his lips.

I shouldn’t be this weak!

And yet, every time he was around, the muscles around my own mouth tugged back and up into a smile all on their own. It was like there was a bond between us – maybe only one that I felt – drawing me closer to him, to his aura of comfort. It was something I’d never felt with anyone else before. His happiness meant my happiness. His pain brought an indescribable urge to soothe him. His presence calmed me, and when he was away, my heart ached for him to return.

I could deny it aloud, but internally, there was nothing to combat the truth. I was head over heels in love with him. Everything about him. I loved how his sparkling green eyes lit up with he laughed; I loved how he selflessly put the needs of everyone around him ahead of his own; I even loved how untameable his black hair was. I wanted nothing more than for him to pull me into his arms and to tell me that he loved me, too because I knew that even though he respected my independence and power, he would still want to keep me safe.

I knew that would probably never happen, though. He wouldn’t love me. This here? The offer to go hunting? He was just looking after my wellbeing like he was instructed to do by Chaos. He couldn’t be in love with me. Besides, he probably already had someone back on Celestia.

After all, a prince must have a princess…right?

There was no real prey around, but I guess it was a blessing in disguise because it still calmed my nerves enough for me to work myself up about something else entirely, like whether or not I should confess my feelings to him. While it was likely that he wouldn’t return them, it would be strategically better to tell him, to let him know that I might be compromised by my heart in a fight.

And, if he loved me, I knew that he would never betray me.

The only problem with that was the _if._ _If_ he loved me. _If_ he felt the same way. _If_ he didn’t already have someone to return to after this mission.

Jealousy reared its monstrous head from where it lay, coiled deep in my gut. The acid-green eyes were staring back at me within my own mind – somewhere I could never escape their horrid gaze. At the same time, a timid mouse of sadness scampered around my heart, leaving small footprints that each weighed a tonne. If Percy really did have someone else, and I didn’t confess to him before finding out for certain, I probably never would. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. So, maybe it was my own self-serving emotions that brought me to act upon my feelings, letting me know that I couldn’t bear the ugly sensations within my own heart, but I definitely did not regret it.

“I feel like this hunting session isn’t calming your nerves as it should be. Is there something else-?”

It was a stupid move – one not fueled by my brain so much as my heart – but it worked.

Suddenly, I found my lips pressed against Percy’s. His whole body went rigid against me, and for a moment, nothing but intense panic shot through me. I thought he was going to pull away. It was a stupid choice anyway. Why would I do such a thing? I’d never kissed anyone before-

Then he melted into the kiss, and suddenly it didn’t matter that I’d never kissed anyone before because kissing Percy felt so unimaginable, anyone else wouldn’t have been able to compare. In that one action, like a single swish of his hand, the tidal wave of my doubt and fear was quelled, sent back to calm waters.

When I finally pulled away, I looked down. Only then did I realize that his wings had come around the both of us. Long primaries gently brushed against the small of my back, where his hands hovered, unsure.

“I’m sorry,” I stuttered, then immediately cursed myself silently. Why was my tongue not cooperating all of a sudden? Why was I still so nervous? He kissed me back. A jolt shot through me. _Why_ did he kiss me back? Why did I even kiss him in the first place? My chin was gently prompted up, and I met his eyes again. There was no regret swimming amidst the love and affection they held.

He leaned in again, slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away, but I didn’t. In fact, I met him halfway, pressing our lips together again in an act that until this day, until this moment, I’d never understood. I could never grasp why people kissed those they cared for, but with Percy, everything was so clear, I could slap myself for not seeing it earlier.

My eyes closed.

“Gods,” Percy breathed as we pulled away the second time. His voice was rough. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” The hand from my hair had moved to tenderly caress my chin. The other hand, previously hovering at my waist, settled. His wings were wrapped even tighter around us.

“Same.” I reached up, tangling my fingers in the dark, silky locks of his hair.

He shivered under my touch. “I love you so much, Artemis. I thought I could never tell you, but I love you. With all my heart and soul.” His voice was thick with passion.

I flushed again, feeling my cheeks heat up. I had no way to express my own feelings with such care, but I could try. “I love you, too. You are the first and only man I’ve ever loved – that I’ve ever felt this way for.”

His eyes were stars, twinkling with so much sincerity that I could almost feel them warm me up inside. I pressed my face to his chest and just took a deep breath. I could stay there forever.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2145**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	32. The Kakía

***First Person Point of View ~ Destruction***

How…adorable.

I smirked, watching my young nephew and his precious little moon goddess together. Reaching up, I caressed the shadows whittling through the bark of the tree of stood under, digging my nails into the overgrown trenches. I dragged my fingers down as they admitted their love for each other. _With all my heart and soul_ , he says. How sweet. Oh, how I’d _love_ to tear them apart, piece by piece, ripping the flesh from her perfect face. _Then_ , we’ll see how much he _loves her_!

My lips pulled back over my teeth in a snarl, but I held back the sound. Couldn’t spoil their little moment, now, could I? Not yet.

Sinking into the shadow of the tree, the only clue I left was the jagged scar marring its slender frame. They wouldn’t notice it, though; they were in their own little bubble of euphoria. It would be so _satisfying_ to shatter its delicate roundness.

Pacing my chambers, I considered my options. She would be the perfect leverage against my nephew, the perfect pawn to manipulate him to my will. If I played my cards right, he would finally be out of my way, out of the way so that I could crush my pathetic siblings’ army and take back the universe that should rightfully be mine!

The only problem was my impatience. I didn’t want the fun to be over…not for a while. I wanted to see the look on my brother’s face when I broke his prized _prince_! My last plan failed, but this time, I was sure to do it right. I’d just been too enthusiastic before. I didn’t take his unwavering grit to heart – I had no _leverage_. Only once he was broken could I think about destroying him.

_What to do? What to do?_

I paced the room and tapped my chin, tugging at my beard and kicking clean white bones against the walls. The dark stone echoed in the dark, then… _clang_. The bars of the cage. I paused, ears perking at the sound. A deep snarl broke the silence, and my smile grew.

Of course!

My darling pet had been waiting so long to stretch its legs. Why not take him for a little walk?

I approached the cage. Glowing red eyes lit up near the back. _Click… Click…. Click…_ The bars rattled, creaking, or maybe my beast was just hissing a warning. Its claws scraped over the stone floor, shuffling through mounds of rotting carcasses, which were still in the process of being picked clean by small birds – at least those smart enough not to get caught.

It was its turn to meet the prince. It had been waiting, tolerant of the time spent in the darkness. It would snare his prey.

And my nephew?

He’d been good, too. He deserved a playmate.

The Kakía was ready.

A bubble of excitement rose in my chest; I had to suppress my laughter. It would be so _thrilling_ to watch my pet tear his deplorable love so soon after they’ve found each other. I just knew that I would cherish the agony on his face – or hers if he chose to sacrifice himself for her. Either way would do.

“Are you ready to play?” I purred to the beast, leaning forward. I tossed a scrap of my nephew’s cloak toward the cage; it snagged in the bars.

It snarled, pouncing. Twelve curved daggers sparked off the cross-working lattice, peeking through like the beaks of many ravenous birds. The cloth vanished. The beast snuffled at its remains, then let out several huffing breaths, which steamed in the dank, frigid air of its prison.

I reached for the level. “Perfect.” Then, the beast was free.

It shot past me and toward the door, claws leaving deep gouges in the stone floor. Two servants screamed as it grabbed them, devouring one whole while just sinking its teeth through the other’s torso. It left behind the legs of the second servant, bleeding limply in the doorway.

I frowned. “Now, that just won’t do…” Waving my hand, a portal appeared in front of the beast, taking it to the forest through my claw marks in the tree.

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

Everything was perfect.

Artemis was in my arms. She’d just confessed her love to me – _me!_ – and she was here, here in my arms, like she could never let me go, and I could never let her go. How could this be reality? Did I deserve this kind of moment, in the serene calm of the forest? No. Probably not. I knew many of my friends would disagree; they would try to tell me of all the good that I had done for the world, for the universe, but they didn’t know the mistakes I had made. The deaths I had caused. They never saw the horrors that I have faced.

 _“Percy. Something is wrong_ ,” Tile hissed in my brain.

I almost hushed him, if not for the urgency in his tone. I registered the words, and my whole body tensed. He was right.

There was something in this forest with us, and not just the animals. This thing was evil. Pure, unfiltered, _evil_.

“What’s wrong, Percy?” Artemis asked, pulling away from me. _No, please don’t…_ “Is something wrong?”

I so desperately wanted to tell her _no, nothing is wrong; just stay here with me_ but I couldn’t because something was so obviously wrong.

She squeezed my hand. “Please, Percy. You’re scaring me now. Is someone talking to you? In your head?” Her eyes held only curiosity, not any of the panic that I felt snare my heart. How could I tell her?

“We need to leave. Right. _Now_.” I tugged at her hand, hoping to lead her back to camp before the _thing_ found us, whatever it was. As I pulled her, I reached out with my senses, hoping to find it, hoping to figure out what it was.

 _“Get ready. It’s coming_ ,” Crypt whispered.

 _“What?”_ I demanded. My eyes were wild as they darted to each shadow like it would jump out at me. _“What is it?”_

 _“We don’t know. Something ancient. Something_ bad.”

I wanted to roll my eyes and just say _duh_ , but that would’ve been insensitive. It also wouldn’t have gotten us anywhere. I nearly tripped over a root, but luckily, my extensive training – as well as my natural instinct ( _Tile’s_ instincts) – kept me from falling on my face. Artemis wasn’t so lucky behind me, still confused, but at least her godly abilities kept her from tripping up, too. That wouldn’t have been a favourable outcome right about now.

 _“Is it one of_ them _?”_ I asked. Oh, sweet Order and Chaos, I hoped not. I’d only ever heard tales of a creature so evil, so bloodthirsty that it sent wires of ice through my veins. Jarring thoughts, cropped images and sentences whirred through my mind as my adrenaline hiked. Just this reaction from the two told me all I needed to know. It _was_.

I stopped suddenly, and Artemis _smacked_ right into my back.

“Ow! What was that, Percy? What’s going on?” She rubbed her nose.

“Climb a tree. Quickly,” I told her. She glared, and I instantly felt bad for my crass tone, but I couldn’t waste time. “Please,” I begged, meeting her eyes.

“Will the hunters be safe?” she asked. Her eyes shifted slightly to our left, in the direction of the camp. The hunters would be safe in their tents. If the beast wanted them, it would’ve been there already. We would’ve heard the screaming. No. It was after one of us – sent by Destruction, no doubt. Only he could’ve found one.

“They’ll be safe,” I promised, “but you won’t. Please, go climb a tree and stay there, no matter what. This is one beast that you _cannot_ fight.”

She went pale suddenly as if some horrid thought crossed her mind. Perhaps her nightmare from last night? Could Destruction have shown her the beast in her dreams? I couldn’t waver on that, now. I had to make sure she was safe, and then I had to face the incarnation of hatred. (Dramatic, I know, but from what I’ve heard of the thing, my words – and worries – were justified.) Artemis ran to the nearest tree and started to climb. I turned toward the source of the evil.

Digging my foot in the grass, I vanished my bow and drew my sword and dagger. It would be far too fast to shoot, and my bow would only end up getting in my way. Then, I waited.

I could hear its claws rumble over the dirt – just barely. It was so quiet, like a breeze caressing the shrubs, prowling near-silently toward me. Its shallow huffs of breath seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. I could only pinpoint its location by the stench of its foul breath; it reeked of death.

The grass right in front of me shifted. The dirt crumpled, sinking into a large pawprint. I nearly let out a curse; the beast was invisible! The pawprints vanished, but the beast was still moving, stalking around me. I turned, eyes and ears alert to any movement.

Wind whistled past my ear. I spun around, striking with my sword. Four claws materialized over my shoulder, falling limply to the ground. They oozed a viscous green fluid into the dirt, which faded. The surrounding plants blackened. There was barely a hiss from the monster as I heard it land somewhere to my left. More fluid oozed from the creature’s wound.

I growled. In the darkness, this creature was impossible to fight. It could sneak around, undetected until it so chose to attack. I needed to get the upper hand. With a dangerous glint, my sword spun around, slicing through the air. I felt the blade dig into flesh, and the whole beast flickered, coming into view.

I barely had time to perceive its appearance as it lunged again, forcing me to roll to avoid its gleaming red teeth. Black foam dripped from its lips. A paw swung at me, but I parried with a dagger, jabbing the smaller blade under the creature’s ribs, drawing a bird-like screech. The sound sent numb sparks along my scalp. The hilt of my dagger thumped to the ground, steaming as the green ooze melted it. Under the beast’s fur, I could see the blade, cutting through its flesh like a metal scar.

 _“You must let me take over,”_ Tile whispered into my ear. _“It’s the only way to fight this thing. Kakía can see shapes and forms, but they track their prey by sense of smell. If you transform, it won’t be able to fight you as easily. Also, my scales and claws won’t be melted by the beast’s blood; your sword will.”_

I knew that he only wanted what was best for me, but I couldn’t deny hearing the hint of excitement in his tone; I hadn’t been in his form for so long; he must’ve been itching to stretch his wings. _“I…I can’t. Artemis is watching. I don’t want to show her your form just yet.”_

_“If you don’t, she’ll die. All of the hunters will die.”_

I grit my teeth. In my distraction, the beast rose onto its hind legs and struck. Four paws were coming at me from all directions, and I was still on the ground. I rolled again, getting to my feet, but let out a hiss. I had two new deep gashes down my back, cutting all the way from my shoulder to my hip. And they _burned!_ The creature’s blood, neon green liquid, dripped down the center of the cut, eating away at my flesh like acid.

Letting Tile take over was the only way for us to beat it, sure, but if Artemis was already so terrified of the Kakía, what would she think of Tile’s form? What would she think of me?

 _“That doesn’t matter right now, Percy. Tile is right; you must transform. It will heal you, too. You must,”_ Crypt urged.

I glanced down at my wrist. It was bandaged now, but I knew what was underneath. It was a negative bracelet, revealing my bones and tendons where the flesh-eating butterflies had swarmed me. The muscle was only slowly knitting itself back together. I knew he was right.

_“If it bothers you that much, we’ll put up a forcefield to hide your form. It will take a bit of time and energy, but I’m sure that we’ll still have plenty to fight the Kakía once Tile takes over.”_

Relief rushed through me like high tide. _“Thank you_.”

_“Don’t thank us yet. Stay alive until we get the shield up.”_

“I will,” I promised aloud, dodging another strike from the beast. I plunged my sword into one of its middle legs, pinning it down as I escaped. As soon as I was on the other side of a mass of trees – opposing the ones where Artemis was hiding – I felt a tug deep in my gut. The shadows around me grew, launching into the air like a flock of crows. Soon, a dome of darkness sealed the Kakía and me in a world of shadows.

As soon as the shield was up, I felt Tile digging at his confines, and I surrendered. My body twisted. Numbness shot up my arms and legs, gathering at the base of my spine and nape of my neck. I blinked, and suddenly I could see again. My mind narrowed, only seeing one thing.

The Kakía. A mass of orange, warm orange, bright orange. _Our foe. Our prey._ We jumped, wings catching air. (Our spines brushed the darkness; it tickled.) Our prey lifted its head, snuffling in the air. It writhed, pawing at the dirt and throwing its head from side to side. _Kill. Must kill it._

With a roar, we dove. Our claws extended. Then, contact. We huffed. Smoke curled around our nostrils. Our maw dug into the beast’s throat. We could taste flesh, taste blood. _Spicy_. The Kakía shrieked again, flailing. We held tighter. It would not escape. The back of our throat tingled. _Fire is coming_.

The flames tickled our tongue. Our prey shrieked, screamed, whined. Our fire ate at its flesh. It began to melt. We let go. _What?_ _Melting? Our fire no melt. Our fire burn._ Our prey moved. We tore its flesh. Tore its head from its body. It stopped moving. _Good._

We stood over our dead prey. Its head was a puddle. Its body was melting. _Why melting?_ We sniffed it. Different from other prey. Musty, old, ancient, prey. Dangerous prey. Now weak prey, dead prey. Digging claws into the prey, we roared. _Triumph!_

 _“Calm now. Good job. It is dead. Calm now,”_ a voice whispered.

We listened. We liked this voice. With a deep breath, we calmed.

And I was myself again. I was Percy again. My shoes were smoking in the remains of the Kakía.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2500**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	33. Eros Hits a Cat

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

I knew immediately that the fight wasn’t going to be pretty. Fights never are, but this one seemed to be extra horrendous. Perhaps so horrendous that Percy couldn’t bare me watching it, because he struggled against that creature for several minutes before freezing, then manifesting a black force shield. It was only seconds later – at least, that was how it felt – that the shield fell, revealing Percy standing in a puddle of acid-green blood, his shoes smoking.

“Percy!” I cried, jumping down from the tree. My feet landed softly on the forest floor. I pulled him out of the puddle, yanking his shoes off as they joined the blood as grey goo of their own.

Percy seemed to be in a daze. After I’d thrown him to the ground, he sat there, staring blankly ahead of himself, like he’d just gone on a really fast, really curvy roller coaster with seven loops and a corkscrew. His windswept hair and rumpled clothes completed the look.

What had happened to them behind that shield?

Sure, the beast was ugly and really strong in a fight, but surely Percy would’ve been alright? I mean, if _I_ had been the one to fight it, I would’ve taken every opportunity _not_ to look at it. It could have been like a hellhound - if hellhounds had six legs and long, scorpion-like tails. The whole beast had been shimmering the whole time it had been visible like it was trapped in a form that wasn’t its own, and I shuddered to think what that beast _really_ looked like under its charms.

But Percy… Percy seemed lost. Like he didn’t know where he was. Perhaps that beast’s blood caused amnesia? Gods, I hoped not. I knelt by his side, lightly patting his cheek. I stared into his eyes, which stared back, though he didn’t seem to see me.

“Percy? Percy, are you alright? Come on, speak to me. Let me know that you’re okay!” When he still didn’t respond, I slapped him. That didn’t seem to do anything, either, so I soothed the growing red mark, even – without being able to stop myself – going so far as to kiss his cheek. Then, my face went as red as the handprint on his face. We’d only just confessed to one another, only kissed once or twice, but I already felt my heart breaking in my chest. He was here with me, but also not here with me, and it felt like someone had cut into my chest and ripped out one of my ribs and then my heart before sewing me back up again. Something was definitely missing.

“Artemis?” His voice was rough, bogged down by an emotion that I couldn’t recognize, like something between fear and guilt, but for what, I couldn’t guess. His fingers dug into the grass, fingernails digging into the dirt. He realized his captured clump, then fell backward.

It was only then that I noticed that he wasn’t hurt at all. I’d thought I saw him get cut by the beast, and there was blood on his back to prove it, seeping into the frayed edges of a slash through his shirt, but…there was no wound. His wrist, which had been bandaged, lost its wrappings during the fight, and the flesh was back, as good as new. Not even a scar remained from where the butterflies had eaten away at his skin and muscle.

_What?_

How could he be in better health at the end of a fight than before it even started? What _really_ happened behind that shield? What didn’t he want me to see? I sighed. He would tell me when he was ready, not before, because I wouldn’t push him. After several centuries of fighting, he had likely learned to keep his secrets, and while I desperately wanted to know everything, every detail about him and his life, I wasn’t entitled to anything he didn’t want to say.

I was just relieved that he was safe.

He sat up, back to himself, and met my eyes with an intensity that I’d only seen once before – right before he saved my hunters from Destruction. “We need to tell the Councils about this,” he said.

“Council _s?_ ” I asked. “As in…more than one?” What was he talking about?

He just grinned, which was almost a complete one-eighty from his previous emotions. “Yes, Council _s_. You talk to yours; I’ll talk to mine.” He left me confused, then, not even bothering to explain before snapping his fingers. I found myself back at the Hunters’ camp, alone, with nothing for company but my own moon chariot flying far overhead.

“Thank a lot, Percy.”

***First Person Point of View ~ Percy***

Artemis would understand. Eventually.

I was still shaking off the effects of the transformation. It had been so long since the last time Tile’s and my mind fused, and we’d never done it in such a way before. Usually, we’ never had to resort to such measures, and we were able to complete the merge without the adrenal burst reverting us back into his primal instincts, but this time was different. We were in the middle of a battle, and as our minds combined, they were flooded with hormones. We became one being, one consciousness that survived on instinct instead of logic. And boy, it was a strange sensation.

No time to think about that now.

I had teleported Artemis back to the campsite while I vanished back to the dimension of the Primordial Council.

They already had physical forms on earth, representing the land, sky, shadows, darkness, and so on within the world, but on Cofando, all twelve of them could have humanoid bodies so that we could all convene to make _very important_ decisions.

Unfortunately for them, that was _all_ they did, so whenever we didn’t need them for the universe changing discussions, they were bored out of their skulls.

This made itself known as I marched into the meeting room, and immediately stopped to watch what was unfolding in front of me.

Aether was in one corner, leaning idly in his rolling chair as he shot a miniature basketball into a tiny matching plastic toy hoop that was suction cupped to the wall. His head lolled to the side, so obviously he wasn’t too into the game. His platinum blonde hair and glowing translucent skin seemed dimmed by his lethargic state.

At the table, in a huddle, Nyx, Hemera, and Thalassa were painting each other’s nails and fixing each other’s makeup, while Gaea flitted around them, buzzing like an angry bee about how they should feel good in their own _natural_ skin without having to cake such heavy foundation over their faces. They just kept waving her away with their magazines.

Natural and unnatural shadows in another corner wrapped around Erebus and Tartarus, who were speaking in hushed tones – probably about business – but if I didn’t know any better, it would’ve looked like they were kissing. (They weren’t, but it had also been a long time since I’d last been here, so I wouldn’t put it past them to be bored enough to experiment.)

Ouranos and Hydros were, in true fashion (like Poseidon and Zeus) arguing about their domains. At what point did the rain become part of Hydros’ domain, seeing as it usually evaporated from _his_ lake and _his_ rivers. His usual argument was accusing Ouranos of stealing his water. This time, they were at each other’s throats, leaving puffy cumulus clouds and puddles in their wake. Funnily enough, the clouds were raining.

Chronos and his wife, Ananke were attached at the lips. No more needed to be said. I avoided looking at them.

And finally, Eros sat, caught up in his own world as he leaned back in his own rolling chair, feet up on the table, admiring himself in an abnormally large hand mirror. He was on the far side of the room from me.

Oh gods, why me?

I cleared my throat loud enough to fill the room. Immediately, they jerked to attention tossing away whatever they were doing. That wasn’t so good. In sitcom fashion, Eros’s rolling chair flipped as he threw his mirror out the window, where it promptly fell eighty feet – since we were in the highest tower – and hit a cat, which yowled. From what I could see of Eros (his feet still on the table) he winced, trying to act natural. It wasn’t working.

The others snapped out of their trances, too. The ladies quickly hid their magazines, toes and fingernails still spread and drying on the table. Erebus and Tartarus’ shadows had vanished, revealing that they were, indeed, kissing in the corner. And poor Ananke had been thrown across the room – thankfully not out the window – by a surprised Chronos. Now, he was getting an earful from his wife.

On my way toward my seat, I peeked out the window. Sure enough, there was Eros’ hand mirror. Glancing back at…his feet, I waved my fingers and he was uprighted in his chair.

“Next time hit a duck,” I told him. “Ducks are evil.” A brief memory flashed before my eyes and I shuddered. Ducks and geese were crazy monsters. (They certainly gave flesh-eating butterflies and run for their money.) I shook the memory away as I sat.

“What’cha doin’ here, my prince?” Aether asked, leaning forward. He was tipping dangerously in his chair, but unlike Eros, Aether never seemed to fall. He was a master of rolling chairs. (Maybe I should make him the god of rolling chairs)

“Destruction sent a Kakía to Earth. I fought it. Tile and I defeated it.”

Gaea promptly fainted. Nyx caught her without even looking. “I thought they were all extinct!”

Tartarus scoffed, affronted. “They are. I’d never let any of _those parasites_ walk all over my body, let alone forming in my domain.”

Nyx rolled her eyes. “Like you have a choice when and where monsters form in your domain. They’re _fleas_ to you. Does a dog control his fleas?”

Tartarus looked like he wanted to start a fight, but one sharp glare from Nyx had him shrinking and whimpering. “I’m not a dog…” he muttered.

I cleared my throat yet again. “ _Anyway_ , I fear that Destruction has been breeding them. I don’t know for sure, which is why I intend to investigate, but I needed to inform you first on the events so that you can all keep your own eyes and ears peeled. If Destruction _does_ have more, we must know. Just remember, the beasts cannot hunt without a scent, but without a scent, they’ll run wild. Right now, we have the advantage as they have not walked the Earth in eons, if ever, and still must get used to the elements. Its near-blindness on Earth is why I was able to defeat the beast so easily.”

 _“It wasn’t so easy_ ,” Tile growled.

 _“Shut up,”_ I told him. _“When I was learning about them, Order told me that there are some planets that the beast can both see_ and _smell. One of them was their home planet, which doesn’t exist anymore, but they were undefeatable on that planet. I thank Order and Chaos that it was destroyed.”_

Tile scoffed.

“I’m ordering an urgent council meeting alongside the gods so that we can plan our course of action. You can’t physically go to Earth lest we cause a cosmic anomaly with all of your power gathered in one place, but I can open a window for you,” I offered.

They all nodded simultaneously.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 1920**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	34. Informants

***First Person Point of View ~ Zeus***

My day was going well until a tear in the fabric of reality opened in my throne room.

Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic. Perhaps I should break that habit.

Up until that point, I'd been lounging in the natural hot spring in my backyard when Artemis called an emergency council meeting. Seeing as she'd never done so before – nor had most of the Olympians, to be honest – I was immediately on guard.

"Father, why are you only wearing cloud-patterned swim shorts?"

"Right..." I snapped my fingers, changing into my usual suit.

Artemis, on my left, cleared her throat. She was worrying her lip between chattering teeth. "Father, we have a dire problem. Perseus and I encountered a creature thought to be extinct, perhaps even before the Titans roamed the earth. I've never seen anything like it, and I do not wish to ever again." She shivered. "He advised me to call a council meeting – he also is bringing a council, but I'm not sure who. He was unclear in that regard."

"What did it look like?" my brother, Poseidon, asked.

"Where is it now?" Athena inquired.

"Are there more?" Ares had a glint of excitement in his eyes at the prospect.

Artemis' mouth shifted like she was eating an unpleasant-tasting food but couldn't spit it out. "It was invisible, at first, but once Percy struck it, it looked like a hellhound, but more gruesome. I think its blood is acid, because the plants burned away whenever Percy cut it, and his weapons melted, too. We left it in the forest after he slew it, but...he just barely won."

Silence fell over us. No one around me dared to speak, probably waiting for my reaction. (This was one of the things I hated most about being king. Despite the power, everyone expected you to have the answers all the time. Not fun.)

"Well... _Ahem_... This is startling news. I suppose we should wait until Perseus returns with his own council–"

I was cut off because that was the moment when reality ripped in front of me.

The first was a doorway, and none other than Perseus was the one walking through. The second, however, was just a window, showing us into another room where twelve other figures sat around a table. Only one was familiar to me.

"You-!" Several shouts arose from my family as we all darted up out of our throne, reaching for weapons.

Gaea was sitting across from me through the window, looking startled and not at all aggressive. _What?_

"Calm down you trigger-happy Olympians!" another of the primordial gods (They _were_ primordial gods. They couldn't be anything else) interrupted, fixing us with frigid eyes of coal. They held the temperature of unstruck flint, cold and sharp yet ready to spark up at a moment's notice. I feared for the moment that happened.

"Erebus do be polite. Their reaction was expected, wasn't it, dear?" A slender woman with wispy blond hair the texture of cotton candy smiled at the man next to her, whose most peculiar feature was the uneven moustache jutting out from under his nose.

"Sorry Ananke," the coal-eyed man muttered, though he still held my gaze. He sure held up to his reputation as god of darkness. Of course, it was only then that I realized what I was looking at wasn't really him, but a ghostly entity sitting within a cloud of shadows. His cola black eyes suddenly seemed less black, instead choosing to glint like stars from the depths of a tornado, like they couldn't make up their mind.

I refused to back down, but sat anyway, motioning for my family to do the same. There was nothing we could do through the window portal, anyway. "Perseus, what is the meaning of this?" I asked.

"A prince needs his advisors. Meet my council," he grinned, gesturing in a grandiose fashion.

" _Your_ council? The primordial gods?" Apollo asked, awed.

"I thought Gaea was evil," Aphrodite whispered to Dionysus, who just grunted in return.

"The Gaea you fought and the Gaea sitting at that table are two very different aspects of her persona. These are the very best sides of their embodiments," Percy explained. "It's sort of how you gods have split personas as well. Now, let's begin!"

I held my breath. Well, this day sure got a lot more interesting.

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

I was surrounded by my friends and family, and yet, I still felt alone. I hadn't even encountered that beast face to face and it still left chills crawling up my spine with tangling fingers of death's ivy. Percy stood in the entre of the room, pacing, restless, unnerved yet collected. How could he appear so calm yet so active all at once?

Me?

For the first time in my immortal life, I was truly afraid. Afraid for myself and for my hunters. For my family. The image of that ancient beast was burned into the back of my mind, and I was sure that even if I scrubbed vigorously, it would persist to haunt my dreams for centuries to come.

Its glowing red eyes flashed on the backs of my eyelids and I flinched, jerking back in my throne. I jumped again as a gentle hand touched my arm. Looking up, I found myself staring into the kind eyes of Hestia.

She was in her eight-year-old form – a favourite of hers. Her eyes were soft and swimming with concern. "Are you alright, dear?"

Those words felt strange coming from a child, but somehow, they felt right. I shook my head.

"I'm not sure..."

I looked up at Percy again, squinting as I noticed something strange about him. He was...glowing? His whole body thrummed with energy and confidence. His steps were sure, and his voice was strong – even though I wasn't paying any attention to his words. The thought struck me as suddenly as a wet fish – he was in his godly form. Of course, he had a godly form! How could I have not known this before? He was shrouded head-to-toe in his princely attire – even the crown was glinting in his black locks (I thought he hated it?).

He didn't have a throne, nor did he make one appear, looking perfectly content to just walk around as he spoke.

They'd already introduced themselves by the time I tuned back into their conversation, where Percy was glaring at one of the gods on his council. It was a man in an appalling bright pink suit. His blonde hair shone an even more vivid gold than my brother's. He was grinning in my direction in what I assumed was meant to be flirtatious, but it just seemed creepy.

" _Eros,_ " Percy spoke through his teeth. As soon as Percy focused his glare on the man, the creepy backed off, shrinking into his chair.

"I called you all here today to discuss the existence of the Kakía, a name given to a race of beasts that Destruction created many eons ago. The species were said to have died out when their planet was destroyed, but it seems that this information is false."

"How are you so sure that Destruction didn't just make more? He created them in the first place, didn't he?" Ares asked with a grunt.

Percy let air leak from the corner of his mouth as he considered this. "It's not that simple. You see, at the birth of the universe, all matter was easily malleable and could, therefore, be shaped into whatever imaginable – that's how their creation powers work. Nowadays, that level of creation – making new planets, inventing new species of such power – matter-shaping of that magnitude is no longer possible."

"Thankfully," Athena interjected.

Percy tipped his chin to his chest. "Yes. They were born of hatred and malice. Destruction couldn't have created any new ones, so he must have kept a few in his dimension. This one was the first I've seen, but I've found that my void fire is lethal to it, like everything else, however, I fear nothing else will be able to kill it. Its blood is acid, strong enough to melt all materials known, including the alloy we use on Cofando to forge our weapons." He proceeded to pronounce a word that I wouldn't even be able to wrap my tongue around, let alone attempt to spell.

"So, you're saying that if he has any more of those monsters, you'll be the only one who could fight them?" I asked. I didn't like those odds.

"Me and Haetros, yes. Whether he has more or not, Destruction is going to drag this out as long as he can. He is the type of person to savour his victory. He wants revenge, and to do that, he wants us to suffer. Me, specifically, because Order and Chaos chose me as their successor."

A shadow passed over his face, holding an emotion that I couldn't identify. Even so, it was like that emotion had pounced across the rooms on all fours, chomping at my heart. I couldn't tell what he was thinking and yet the words washed over me. Perhaps he was worried about what Destruction was planning, or about the hunters, who we'd left behind in the camp alone, or maybe even something completely unknown to me.

He worried his lip between his teeth, clicked his jaw and ruffled his hair. His eyes rolled back in his head only enough for me to notice across the room. Finally, his eyes cleared.

"I need to meet with some informants. Please await my return." His tone was clipped. The seriousness in it felt out of place. His eyes wandered to one of his advisors – a man in a glowing white suit with platinum blond hair. I never heard his introduction, but it seemed that he was Aether, the primordial embodiment of light. "Secrecy is of the utmost importance, so under no circumstances are you to interrupt me. Do you understand?"

As soon as he received the nod of acknowledgement from Aether, his body faded into silver mist.

***Third Person Point of View***

In a narrow alley, crimson and violet mist mixed with the dust of the musty air. The mist came together, growing opaque until it formed a dark figure. He stormed along the cobbled street, boots displacing puddles into miniature tsunamis to wash away the homeless rats chewing in the trash. His cloak fluttered; the bottom was splattered with a dark substance that glinted like ravenous teeth in the dim lantern-light.

It was a lesser city on Cofando, one where the criminal underworld seethed. Even so, this street was in the seediest part of town, and turning a corner, the figure flashed his teeth as he walked up to a nondescript door. A slat lurched open to reveal a single golden eye. It blinked audibly before focusing on the figure.

"Password?" a gruff voice drawled.

The figure muttered a phrase and the slat slammed shut. A latch clicked and the door opened, revealing a hulking figure in the door, illuminated around the shoulders by flickering lights. The figure whisked by him and into the establishment. He settled at the back of the room, sitting at the bar.

Loud music crackled over the loudspeakers. Most of the tables were full, people chatting and drinking and laughing, clashing their glasses together to slosh miscellaneous alcohol across the chipped tables. As soon as he'd entered, the pub went silent, leaving the stereo to sing static and blues into the empty space.

"What can I get for ya, sir?" The bartender leaned over the counter, one hand cleaning a glass with an old cloth. His whistling voice cut through the silence. He seemed to be the only one unaffected by this new patron's presence.

Several pairs of eyes leered at the figure, raking over the six leathery bat wings nestled in the folds of his cloak. The wings fluttered, each in perfect sync.

They knew who he was.

It was clear from the wings to the cloak to the bone-white bandana stretched across the lower half of his face.

"A meeting. In the back room," the figure muttered. His voice was rough.

The bartender proudly showed off three black teeth in his grin, putting down the glass and cloth with a dull thud. "Right this way, sir." He swung his arm toward the swinging door behind the bar. The figure stalked behind him, hearing an echo of noise from behind the door as energy returned to the pub.

Behind the bar was what was behind every bar. A storeroom with barrels and shelves upon shelves of bottles. The bartender wandered almost thoughtlessly between he shelves, his skeletal fingers glossing over each of the barrels until he reached a special one. Well, it wasn't any different on the outside than all the others, but he stood in front of it like it was the only thing in the room. Pulling the handle, the bartender bowed to the figure as the barrel shuddered, moving aside to reveal a secret passage. After a nod, the bartender retreated back to his counter and his cloth.

He descended the stairs.

Each step echoed louder until the stone slats were screaming when he finally reached the bottom. The barrel had since moved back over his head, casting him into darkness, but he knew the way. He opened the door at the bottom with a narrow key that would have broken in any other lock. The cloak shuddered as it passed through.

There were seven other figures in the room beyond the door. They'd come from seven other doors, each on their own wall in the octangular room.

"Why did you call us here?"

The figure tilted his head at the cloaked woman across from him. "I need your eyes and ears."

The others were silent. Then:

"What would you like to know, sir?"

The figure hissed and swept his cloak out as he sat at the head of the table. "Destruction's movements. A Kakía. Are there any signs of his forces amassing?"

"Nothing from my sector, sir," the woman replied.

"Nor mine."

"Nor mine."

"Haven't heard anything."

"He's stayed clear of my sector, sir."

"Same. Nothing's disturbed my sector."

The last cloaked figure was silent.

"Seven?" the leader asked. His wings flared.

"He is transporting monsters, stealing them from Tartarus' lands to his own dimension to train them in ranks," Seven replied quietly. His voice was high and sharp like a child's. "I cannot confirm nor deny that he has been breeding Kakía, but from the attack on the prince on Sol 3 we know it's a possibility."

The leader nodded. His wings returned to their relaxed state. "Thank you, Seven. Return to your post and keep me informed. The rest of you, do the same. If there is any whisper of Destruction's whereabouts, relay it to myself or the prince – no one else. You are dismissed." His eyes swept over his seven companions.

"Sir, if I may?"

"Yes, Four?"

"While I have not heard anything of Destruction from my sector, and I know that he is our greatest adversary at this time, why should we care? The prince and the army are already dealing with the problem. Why should we, the League, be concerning ourselves with this fight? It just...seems a bit outside of our legislation."

The leader's eyes narrowed. "It is within our legislation because I said it is."

Four stood. "Is this personal, sir? You know how dangerous that is. Vendettas lead to death in our line of work."

"Not a vendetta," the leader promised. "Just a promise I intend to keep."

"Then your identity is on the line, sir. As of yet, no one knows who you are, even us in this room, and it has been that way for centuries. I sincerely hope you know what you are doing."

"I do. Don't worry." The leader's voice dropped to sub-zero. "Dismissed."

Then, he vanished in mist again, leaving his companions to wonder why he always entered through the door.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2670**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	35. The End is Near

Aether wasn’t sure what he’d just seen, and he was usually sure about seeing, being the embodiment of light and all. Light was one of the main reasons so many people in the universe could see, so when Aether couldn’t, he got nervous. And when he got nervous, so did the others.

He sat back in the rolling chair, so far that he fell backwards. At the moment, he was on his back, blinking owlishly at the ceiling. A hand waved in front of his face.

“What…?” was all he could manage. When he came back to himself, he shot upright, hands in his hair. “Sweet Order and Chaos!” he cursed, “What did I just do?”

His wife, Hemera, leaned back on her heels. She sighed. “I don’t know, dear. What _did_ you just do?” Her eyes narrowed.

He had the gall to chuckle. It quickly evolved into a cacophony of goat chatter, accompanied only by the clacking of his teeth. “I’m _so_ dead.” He began to hyperventilate. His hands and feet shook, fingers and toes curling. “I’m going to die. Am I already dying? I think I’m dying. Hemera-?”

“Yes, dear? I’m here, love. Hold onto me.” She took his hands into hers then pulled his head close to her chest. He was still cackling wildly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Zeus asked. The Olympian gods were still on the other side of Percy’s dimensional window. “What did we all just see?”

“Something you weren’t _supposed_ to see,” a voice growled.

Everyone in both throne rooms spun around as a dark figure stepped through a _very familiar_ cloud of dark mist. Wisps of lava weaved in and out around him, wailing like wronged spirits. His six wings shuddered – in anticipation? Anger? They couldn’t tell. Under the hood, the cloth across his mouth danced with shadows, like fangs going in for the kill.

“T-Télos…” Aether’s voice was hardly above a whisper, but he’d finally taken a long enough breath to speak. Hemera pulled him closer, carding a hand through his golden curls.

Télos’ eyes flashed. He stepped forward, leapt in the air, and soared _through_ the window.

The primordial gods flinched.

“Aether,” Télos hissed, “do you understand the magnitude of what you have just done? You have defiled the sacred order, the assassins’ league of Chaos and Order. You have opened the eyes of these innocents to a world of dangerous secrets…” His eyes narrowed. “And you’ve given me a lot more work than I want.”

“Work?” Aether squeaked.

Télos ignored his question. Instead, he shifted his weight, lifting his hands. They were gloved. Finger by finger, he worked the glove off his left hand. “Handling memories is a tricky practice – one that is necessary, for you _must not_ remember what you’ve seen. Alas, I must wipe the experience from your minds.” He tossed the glove carelessly to the ground, though it vanished before hitting the floor.

Aether scuttled backward, out of Hemera’s arms. She rose, standing over him with the air of a mother goose and a stern countenance. This didn’t stall the approaching assassin. As he got closer, she found that she couldn’t move.

“I regret to inform you that this issue cannot be brushed aside,” he told her casually. “You won’t feel a thing…don’t worry.”

His hand pressed to her forehead.

“Hemera!” Aether dove to catch his wife as she collapsed, only to be met with the same fate. He collapsed next to her, fully comatose.

Télos made quick work of the others of the primordial council.

“Who…who are you?” Zeus tried to remain strong – really, he did, but after seeing this mysterious figure take down each embodiment of existence without a sparing glance shook him down to his core. He trembled in his throne, knowing that he was most likely the next victim.

The assassin turned to him and shrugged. “It won’t make a difference if I tell you or not, seeing as I cannot allow you to remember my being here, either, but for the sake of your question, I feel obliged to answer.” Spreading his arms in a grand gesture, he suddenly teleported to the centre of the Olympian throne room. “I am Télos, the End, personal assassin to Lady Order and Lord Chaos, leader of the League of Truth. Please to make your acquaintance.”

Splaying his fingers, he moved at tremendous speed to erase most of the Olympians, leaving only Artemis conscious. He stood before her.

“If you work for Order and Chaos, doesn’t that make you one of the good guys?” she asked, though the hesitation was clear in her voice. “Why erase our memories if we’re all on the same side?”

The assassin grinned, though it was unseen behind his bandana. He approached her slowly. “My dear…it is simply too dangerous for you to know. I am doing you a favour, be assured. Now please, just relax. It will be over soon…”

The hand came closer, Artemis knew no more.

“Darling?”

Artemis awoke. Her head felt light and airy, supported by a gentle hand. After blinking a few times, she was looking up at Percy. Around her, the Olympians were in various states of unconsciousness, melted into their thrones like puppets with sheered strings.

What had just happened?

“Did you even leave?” she asked, sitting upright.

He cracked a grin. “Yes. Have you been partying too hard while I was gone?” I cast his eyes around at the other gods. “What even happened here?” A shadow passed over his eyes, unnoticed by Artemis. He _knew_ what had happened; it was obvious. He just had to check to make sure she remembered nothing of the encounter.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” she mused, however, as she looked back, trying to recall what had gone on after he’d left, a sudden jolt of pain shoved her away. Her hands shot up to dig into her temples. She worked her fingers around in circles. “Ow…”

There was a groan from across the room, and Percy stepped away, letting her settle in her throne. Zeus lifted his head. He and the other Olympians were just waking up.

“What just happened…?” the king of the gods asked. His voice was muffled from the nausea rumbling in his gut. Leaning over the arm of his throne, he vomited.

“At least no children came up…” Percy muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Artemis had to swallow a laugh. She maintained a serious façade – just barely. “That is a terrible joke. Take it back right now.”

“Make me.”

Suddenly, Aphrodite squealed. She jolted up out of her throne, feeling no adverse aftereffects like the other gods because she was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of love. It pulsed around the room and behind her eyes in fuchsia waves with no definite source. She almost scowled at the generality of it but couldn’t manage it through her excitement. Then, her eyes locked on Percy and Artemis. She squealed again, clapping her hands. This, obviously, drew attention to her.

“What’s goin’ on, love?” Ares gurgled, still fighting a losing battle with his own nausea.

“They’re in love!” she announced. Erratic giggles overtook her as a gleeful grin stretched across her chin.

“What?” Zeus roared, wiping his mouth. His hair was ruffled, tufts jolting out of place. His eyebrows were storm clouds over the sparks of lightning flashing in his eyes.

Artemis met her father’s gaze. “Yes.” She stood, taking Percy’s hand in her own. “We are. My life has been better since Percy has been in it, especially since I’ve realized my own feelings. He is the only one I’ve ever loved, and I won’t let that pass me by because of my own fear or denial.”

Percy’s hand tightened in hers as his face lit up. He couldn’t contain the happiness welling up within him, despite the dead silence of the room.

Aphrodite squealed loudly.

The tension broke.

Chatter filled every nook and cranny of the rooms on both sides of the dimensional window – especially with Percy’s own council spouting compliments and the Olympians split in thirds in their opinions on the matter. Zeus, of course, was miffed, along with the overprotective Apollo and Athena. Several, including Aphrodite, were wholeheartedly invested in the romance, while Dionysus and Ares were in the group of those completely unaffected either way.

“What is this? The Bachelor? Why should we care if you two got together?” Dionysus grumbled. Even though he was the least affected by the memory-erasure hangover (being the god of wine) he still seemed to be the most disgruntled, though perhaps that was just his regular personality peeking through.

Every comment, positive or negative, was abruptly cut off by a hollow, keening wail filling the room. It whirled, disembodied but moving, and finally settled upon Percy, who went stiff beside Artemis. His eyes dimmed and glazed over, becoming marbles in his sockets.

“Percy?” Artemis shook their connected hands. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She touched his shoulder and he suddenly sucked in a breath as if risen from the depths of the ocean. His eyes were swimming with panic.

“We have to go,” he said. “The camp is in danger.”

Pulling her close, the entire throne room inverted, and when it was right side up again, they were no longer there. He, and all of the Olympians, were at Camp Half-Blood. The hunters were there too, with Haetros at their side. And the Romans. And the Amazons. Even the winged commanders of the army were there, guarding their charged groups. From what, not even they seemed to know. Percy must’ve just teleported all of them here, too.

As soon as they were back on their own feet, Percy marched over to the angels. He pulled his second in command, Luke, aside and spoke in low tones, eye boring into Luke’s blue ones. “Get the campers and the gods to safety. This is Code CGR. I’ll hold him off as long as I can.”

Luke’s eyes widened only a fraction before he schooled himself back into a mask of calm. There was no time to panic, especially because he had to keep everyone else calm. One hand clamped on Percy’s shoulder, squeezing once before he turned back to the others, barking orders.

“What’s wrong?” What’s going on?” Zeus demanded. As he was ignored, he scowled and grumbled a few choice curses. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything today?” Despite the front that he put up, he was afraid. Truly afraid. He may not like being out of the loop, but he had sense. If something was bad enough to scare the prince of the universe, of course, he’d know to fear it, too.

Percy turned to him and flexed his wings. It was then that the others noticed the feathers. They were _glowing_! Each black vane buzzed with an eery light, bubbling like magma. The campers stared at them with wide eyes, mouths dropped open.

“My wings carry a special marker that let me know when Chaos or Order have been taken over by a higher power. It is a contingency not often used, as there is a very limited number of beings in the entire universe with the power to do so. This means that, somehow, someway, Destruction had invaded Cofando and is controlling either of them – most likely Chaos, if I had to make a wager. Order is not answering my mental probes, so I must assume the worst has happened.” Percy shook his head, running a hand through his hair. If one were to look closer, they’d notice the almost indiscernible tremble in his fingers. “He’ll be coming here next, to goad or taunt or whatever it is that villains do – he’ll give a monologue or two, maybe. I’m going to fight him, give you a chance to escape. Maybe I’ll get through to my father while I’m at it.”

“What? And you expect to all just leave? What was the point of all of that training if we’re just going to run away?” Artemis demanded. Normally, she was the sensible one, but the thought of Percy going into battle alone against the enemy they’d all prepared for seemed _wrong_.

He levelled her with a sharp look. “Destruction’s power has doubled at least. You all would only get in the way of our battle. I’d prefer to know that you are all safe.”

Just as he said that the sky turned dark. Though there were no clouds, the sun was blocked out. Perhaps it had just vanished from the sky altogether? It was a night without stars. Then, the ground at his feet erupted.

Everyone was thrown back by the force of the blast. Artemis was thrown away from Percy, who shot straight up into the air from the inertia, using his wings to propel himself higher. His eyes scanned the wreckage below, trying to find anyone who was trapped or injured, but the first thing that he saw was Chaos. Well…not Chaos.

Destruction.

His face, once only full of kindness, expressed a hatred deeper than he’d ever seen before. Words of loathing curled on his tongue. “Perseus,” he snarled. His eyes gleamed, hungry for blood. The prince’s blood, to be precise.

“Destruction.” Percy bit back a curse. He shot a beam of energy at Chaos, hoping to slow him down as the Captains led everyone to safety. It was brushed away like a limp paper streamer.

Destruction laughed with Chaos’ lips. “Folly, my boy! With Chaos’ mind and body at my disposal, I have only become more powerful than ever! You cannot defeat me with such meagre might!” he mocked.

“Then how about we go somewhere where I won’t have to worry about holding back?”

Percy lunged, his hands wrapping around Destruction’s throat. The force sent them both tumbling backward into a black hole, which gaped like a fissure in the dimensional rift. It slurped up twigs and stones and the duo before snapping shut behind them. It was never there.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2335**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	36. I Was Thinking of Redecorating Our Galaxy Anyway

Hurling deeper and deeper into the endless vacuum of space would’ve been a problem for anyone else, but not them. Seeing as Percy and Destruction were both interstellar beings, they could still breathe despite the lack of air. They could still see and move, as well, which, of course, meant that they could also fight.

Their speed increased with every planet they hurtled past, the force threatening to rip them apart before each other had the chance, and yet Percy kept fighting. His grip tightened in Destruction’s cloths with one hand as the other shot beam after beam of energy. His eyes glowed with the same aura now surrounding them as Destruction fired back. Asteroids exploded into dust, showing over them in clouds. They might’ve even passed through the gas giant, Neptune, but Percy wasn’t sure. (He’d probably find tiny diamond raindrops speckling his hair later.)

They were whipped around at a ninety-degree angle by a furious wind, which howled in their ears like a distressed toddler as it threw them.

Finally, they stopped. How so? Neither knew. They just did.

They hovered in space; up and down had no meaning. The harsh glow of _sol_ – the sun – illuminated Percy from behind, giving him and his wings a halo of writhing, bubbling magma. His hair and eyebrows were crisp with ice. He didn’t even feel the cold.

 _“Is this going to be the location of our final battle, Perseus?”_ Destruction asked. His voice was barbed wire wriggling in Percy’s brain. He was just as frosty, and his grin seemed frozen on his face.

 _“It seems so.”_ It wasn’t Percy answering, however; it was Crypt and Tile. _“Let me out, Percy,”_ Tile whispered just to him.

Percy didn’t have to be asked twice. In Destruction’s moment of hesitation – his confusion – Percy’s body transformed. Unlike before, in the heat and adrenaline of being in mid-battle, their minds meshed – all three of them – perfectly. His shattered bones knitted back together under his flesh, burns closing as they changed to dense scales.

Destruction could only laugh. _“So, this is your true form!”_ It wasn’t a question. _“I heard rumours that you had merged with that formidable beast – the Cryptile.”_ He spat the name. _“Show me some of that Voidfyre you’re so proud of!”_

The sound of Percy’s response was swallowed by the inevitable silence of space. The spittle that flew from his mouth froze instantly. With wings outstretched, he shot toward Destruction, propelled by a wave of multicoloured fire that radiated from his scales.

 _“Now that’s more like it!”_ Destruction cackled. _“I want you at your best before I crush you!”_

They collided, and everything blew up.

It was a supernova, luckily just far enough away from any of _sol’s_ planets to leave them untouched, though the same couldn’t be said for the asteroid belt that had previously been wrapping around them. Light years past the edge of their explosion, a tide of space dust settled over each of _sol’s_ first five planets.

Percy and Destruction flew apart, each sporting new wounds.

Destruction’s eyes were dripping black blood. His hair was singed and frozen at the same time while the rest of his body was a mass of flesh that was slowly pulling itself back together. As his face returned to its previous state, the snarl returned with it.

On the other hand, Percy’s scales had only been grazed. A few were missing, probably crashing down on sol-3 or -4, but his Voidfyre roved over the cuts, sealing them. He roared again, a high, vicious sound that was once again swallowed by the nothingness around them.

They both charged again, eyes glowing with pure hate for each other, and the cycle continued. Energy blasts were shot and deflected; they grappled, hands interlocked in a test of brute strength. Each explosion and blast was snuffed out as it reached the edge of the protective barrier that surrounded the two, but that didn’t stop the force from pushing past, jolting the planets nearest to them. They had their own atmosphere, drawing in mounds of space junk to loop around them like the rings of Saturn.

(Perhaps the mortal scientists on sol-3 were all having a simultaneous aneurism watching them tear up their galaxy.)

Finally, their power waned, and so did they, resorting to close combat.

Percy slashed his claws forward. They glinted with Voidfyre but sliced through nothing as Destruction dodged, retaliating with twin daggers. Both were quickly snapped between Percy’s jaws. He spat out the remains.

All around them, their atmosphere raged in a furious storm, roiling just within the barrier. Gaseous substances swarmed together, writhing and churning with the runoff of Percy’s Voidfyre. Sparks of lightning burst in and out of existence and its thunder only echoed within their storm.

The two combatants circled each other in a wide arc. With their three voices merged into one, Percy finally spoke. “You forget that though you boast of your ultimate powers, I am still the heir. I alone wield the power of the Cryptile and draw strength from the Shadow Lord! You will not defeat me!”

Destruction faltered for a moment. It was barely a hitch in his movement as he hovered across from Percy, nigh invisible in the constant flashing of lightning around them, but Percy saw it. He grinned, and, inhaling deeply, spewed an immense blast of Voidfyre directly at his opponent.

It was Destruction’s quick reflexes that saved him from being obliterated out of Chaos’ body. He threw back a beam of his own; sweat dripped down his face from the effort. They were both fighting at one hundred percent power, and now pushing past those limits.

The two beams collided in the center yet again, but this time, they connected. Both assaults kept building, the warring forces tearing apart of storms and straight past the barrier. Everything dissolved into mist as the universe was ripped apart into a hissing, flaring pool of dark matter. Only the building shockwave kept the miniature black hole from devouring both of them.

Despite this, the two kept fighting, kept pouring power and rage into their attacks. Percy’s jaw only stretched wider, even as the scales surrounding his gums and nostrils smarted and steamed, dissolving in the force of their own power. Destruction’s hands similarly blackened, skin peeling away as muscles and tendons snapped, and yet, he kept pushing. Both kept pushing.

No longer was it a battle of strength.

Only willpower would decide the victor now.

Percy could feel his strength draining. He could feel his own power eating away at his flesh – at his body and soul – but he absolutely refused to give in. Destruction _couldn’t_ win. He couldn’t let that happen. The entire universe depending on his victory, on him to save it from evil. Everyone was counting on him, so, narrowing his eyes and clenching his fists, he steeled himself to continue. His fire intensified.

Feeling a second wind from his opponent, Destruction fought to keep his energy sustained. Both of his hands were nothing more than blackened stumps by now, but he couldn’t even feel the pain. Why was he having such difficulty? And against a _child_ of all things? Percy was a mere _infant_ compared to him; how could he be fighting with such power? Destruction growled, blinking blood out of his eyes. He should be able to squash Percy like an insect under his boots, but he couldn’t. It was Chaos’ fault; he knew it. Chaos was resisting his control, pulling back against his power.

The beam was so bright he nearly had to avert his eyes when it finally happened.

It was only for a second, but that was all it needed. Chaos’s mind _ripped_ away from Destruction’s control, and the beam vanished. Destruction didn’t even have enough time to swear before the Voidfyre rolled over him.

Upon his victory, Percy paused. Destruction and Chaos were separated. He’d won. It was over, but why did he still feel so high-strung?

His whole entity churned as he returned to his human form, and he flew closer to Chaos’ body as it floated limply before him. Destruction’s body was a shadow of its former glory, a phantom haunting them, a mere glitch in the system. As he got closer, Chaos’ body stirred. He raised his head, trying to regain his breath as he shivered, recovering from Destruction’s control.

“Are you alright, father?” he asked. His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

There was a pregnant pause, but when Chaos finally looked up at him, tears were running down his cheeks, forming icicles along his chin. “I hurt you, Percy,” he sputtered brokenly. “I can’t believe I hurt you.”

Percy pulled him into a firm embrace. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “It was Destruction. Everything was Destruction. You can’t blame yourself for his actions because it wasn’t you. It was never you. You’d never do that to me.” He could feel tears freezing along his own cheeks, but he kept whispering, kept assuring his father that everything would be fine.

Chaos heaved. The tears returned tenfold. “But… But it _was_ my fault! I did _nothing_ against him. I-I couldn’t _do_ anything against him! I couldn’t force him out!”

“But you did. You did. You got him out. You helped me win,” Percy insisted.

Chaos pulled back to look at him again. Slowly, the corners of his mouth twitched. They became the ghost of a smile like he’d accepted Percy’s words in his head but not quite yet in his heart. _That_ would take a lot more time – eons, maybe. Then, his eyes shifted to something over Percy’s shoulder, and he snapped.

“Percy, watch out!”

It was too late.

Percy was grabbed from behind and thrown aside. Chaos could do nothing, still injured from the fight. His hands were still stumps at the ends of his wrists, charred and crinkly. It would take months before he was fully healed.

Destruction, however, was at full power. It wasn’t _his_ body, after all, that had been in that fight; it was Chaos’. He threw Percy straight through their barrier and into the closest planet, Neptune. Percy howled into the vacuum of space as the vicious winds tossed him about like an orca’s prey before he finally crashed through the hot, dense fluid and into the rocky core of the planet. His back struck a boulder, which stopped his with a sickeningly wet _snap!_

The gas giant’s intense pressure held him down as he struggled to breathe it molten, liquid air. He could barely raise his head to see Destruction stalking toward him, eyes wild with insanity. His body was untouched, unaffected by their earlier fight. He was at full strength while Percy was positively _drained._

“I am going to _destroy_ you,” Destruction hissed. His voice shifted unevenly in the static of Percy’s brain. “I am going to pummel you to dust. I will fight you until there is nothing left to fight!”

Percy tried to get up, to do something, but a sharp, hot pain jumped up his back like a flea. Someone must’ve replaced his spine with a pole of molten steel. His chest constricted and blood bubbled up from his lungs. He couldn’t even roll over to vomit so it washed over his chin and cheeks and down his front. He cried out in garbled whimpers.

Destruction reached down and wrapped his fingers around Percy’s throat, ignoring the blood and bile as he slammed his nephew’s body back against the boulder with such force that it split in two.

He barely had time to let out a pained gasp before Destruction’s fists slammed into him. Punch after punch tore into his face and ribs, burying him deeper into the solid stone. Sour, metallic fluid flooded his mouth again. Bloody vomit settled into his lungs even as it spewed from his mouth in a coughing fit.

As Destruction let up, he stepped away and spat down on Percy’s broken body.

“Not so mighty now, are you? Where is the beast?” His fingers clasped around Percy’s neck again, pulling him up so that they were face to face. Percy just hung limply. His head lolled to the side even though his eyes were wide and alert. “Show it to me!”

When Percy didn’t move, Destruction tossed him back to the ground is a sprawled heap, shooting a beam of energy. Percy’s clothes were long gone, leaving not even a semblance of protection from the burning force that ate away at his flesh.

Then, Destruction drew his weapon from a pocket dimension. He spun it as it hummed in anticipation of tasting Percy’s blood.

He laughed mirthlessly. “You are so weak, nephew! You are weak, and you will die today,” he boasted, “by my hand.” The smile on his lips was cruel and unending as he advanced upon Percy’s prone body.

In the few seconds that he had, Percy willed himself to rise. He could vaguely hear Crypt and Tile shouting at him, probably to get up and fight back, but they were drowned out by the cotton filling his head. Bracing his hands, he stood, wobbling as his whole body burned.

Destruction swung, and Percy’s own sword swung to meet it. Sparks burst as the two blades clashed. Percy was just able to deflect his opponent, redirecting the force. He gasped again as pain rocketed up his arm. His bones were vibrating. His teeth rattled in his skull.

Their battle lasted all of two seconds before Percy’s sword was gone and he was back on the ground with Destruction’s blade on a direct path to his heart. He blasted it away with a pitiful explosion.

Destruction grunted but scoffed, summoning the sword back to his hand. “Resistance is useless. You _will_ die.”

“N-never…” Percy managed to spit at his uncle. _“If I can’t stop him…then…Télos will. I know he will_.”

“Percy!” The cry was weak, but he heard it. Chaos was twenty feet away from them, still hunched over on himself.

Percy smiled. Even with his immortal life force waning from their fight, his father was by his side. He couldn’t do anything – the strain from teleporting to Neptune alone must’ve set him back a couple more months of recovery, but at least he was there. There was nothing more that Percy could ask for.

“Such courage,” Destruction mused as his gaze shifted to Chaos. He looked back down at Percy and raised his sword again. “Too bad that won’t save you.” His whole sword arm glowed, and as he thrust the blade downward, it alighted with power. The blade sliced through him and buried itself deep into the planet’s core underneath him.

A bubbling gasp escaped Percy’s mutilated lungs. His eyes were wide with horror. Blood flooded from the bowling ball-sized hole in his sternum.

Destruction smirked. “Goodbye, _hero_ ,” he snarled as Percy took his final breaths.

 _“Artemis…my love…please forgive me.”_ His precious moon – one who had never felt love… He was leaving her alone. No wonder she hated love… Who would spend all that time and effort to find _the one_ , only for them to leave? How could he do that to her? Though his heart had been disintegrated, he sent all of his love to her, hoping that she would get his message. “ _I love you…to the void and back…”_

Then, he locked eyes with his father, smiled weakly, and entered the void.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2575**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	37. The Final Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It takes 4 hours and 2 minutes for light to travel between Earth and Neptune.

***Earlier***

“Then how about we go somewhere where I won’t have to worry about holding back?”

Percy lunged, his hands wrapping around Destruction’s throat. The force sent them both tumbling backward into a black hole, which gaped like a tear in the dimensional rift. It slurped up twigs and stones and the duo before snapping shut behind them. It was never there.

“No!” Artemis screamed, jumping forward. Her hands grasped at air. She fell to her knees, letting out a distraught huff. He was gone. Of course he was gone. That self-sacrificing idiot… She growled.

No one moved. No one breathed. No one even dared to blink. They just kept their eyes on the place where Percy and Destruction had disappeared, anxious hearts racing. The only movement was from the tears that steadily marched down their cheeks, taking swam dives to become one with the silvery veins in the marble floor.

Apollo knelt near his sister, though hesitated to get any closer. Her shoulders were shaking, and his hand itched to press themselves against her back for comfort, but something held him back. He wasn’t sure how she would react. She and Percy were together, that much he knew, so the prince must matter to her. Percy was the only man in all the millennia they’d been alive that she felt something for – something beyond companionship.

Compassion won out and he reached forward. His hand was shaking. It never made it.

The ground shook. The walls groaned. Dust filtered down along the columns.

“What’s going on?” Zeus demanded. He stood from his throne. His jacket whipped in the air at the sudden movement as he stalked from the throne room.

The others followed, almost yapping at his heels. And what they saw astounded them.

A second sun lit up the sky. It was dimmer, only so much that they could look at it, but it was there. Like the moon in the sky – through that was already there as well. If not the moon nor the sun, what could it be?

“It’s Percy!” Luke exclaimed. His hand gripped Zoë’s arm for support as the stairway to the throne room rumbled yet again. “He and Destruction are fighting in deep space– whoa!”

The earth shook again as it wobbled on its axis, leaving no one on their feet. Zoë slapped Luke repeatedly until he fumbled off of her. “Sorry…” he muttered.

Their faces were turned to the sky yet again as the second sun pulsed, blinking in and out of existence like otherworldly nightclub strobe lights. Another explosion was followed minutes later by a light showering of dust.

Bianca coughed, snorting as it got on her tongue. “ _Ugh_. Space dust is the _worst_!”

Hermes was grinning ear to ear, though the dust in his hair and all over his face made him look like a crazed hermit, especially since he was jumping up and down in excitement. “Space dust? This is space dust?”

Luke rolled his eyes at his father. “Of course it is.” He scoffed. “They must’ve destroyed another asteroid belt.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Beckendorf commented.

“This must be a new record at least, dear. They seem to be somewhere out near Neptune, and we’ve never had reports of dusting earth before.” Silena laid a hand on her husband’s arm. He grunted in approval.

“Then I’ll write him a congratulatory speech when he gets back. We’ll throw a party. For the dust, not for defeating Destruction or anything.”

Silena hid a giggle behind her hand.

“Do you really think he’ll win?” Apollo asked, looking at the angels. He looked worried. Both hands were around Artemis’ shoulder now, though she tried in vain to shrug him off, insisting that she was fine. She watched the sky with avid attention, since given up escaping him.

“Of course he’ll win,” Zoë snapped. She wouldn’t leave any room for doubt or debate. He _had_ to win. There was no other option.

Above them, it was a fireworks display. The sky crackled and shook. Clouds mysteriously formed and vanished. If they didn’t know what caused them, the lights would’ve been pretty, but they weren’t celebratory. They were lights of war. Lights of death. Nothing good would come out of their beauteous boasting.

Rosie rushed out to the front, pushing away from her sisters to stand at Artemis’ side. Her small hand reached up and grasped at Artemis’ coat. Worrying her lip between her teeth to the point it bled, she let out a pitiful whimper. “I hope Percy is okay…” she mumbled. Her face was smudged with dust; tears dug war trenches over her round, flushed cheeks.

Artemis scooped her up and squeezed. “I hope so too,” she whispered into Rosie’s hair. This was the girl Percy had bonded with. She was going to be one of Artemis’ hunters one day. This had little to do with her sudden attachment to the girl, though. For some reason, this girl felt different. Artemis felt a strong pull toward her like she’d known her all her life. Perhaps she’d been reborn from one of her older huntresses. Artemis wasn’t quite sure, but she was certain that she wouldn’t be letting the girl go anytime soon.

At her other shoulder, Thalia gave a weak attempt at a smile. “I’m sure he’ll be okay. He’s the prince of the freaking universe, here! It would be a waste of all that power if he wasn’t beating Destruction into next week and just dusting earth to annoy us! That Kelp Head’s too stubborn to give up.”

Her joke fell a little flat but broke through some of the tension in the air, nonetheless.

While Artemis laughed along with the others, she couldn’t do anything to quell the dread festering in her chest. She squeezed Rosie again, who squeezed back. Perhaps she felt something, too. Shards of ice stung her heart, tore at her lungs, and wriggled up her throat. Shivers took up residence all along her spine, despite the warmth of the sun on her face. Her feet felt numb in her shoes, like lead weights at the ends of her legs.

A voice called out to her. _“Artemis…my love…please forgive me,”_ it whispered. She spun around, as it seemed to be coming from behind her, but no one was there. Not even a shadow. Apollo and Thalia furrowed their eyebrows at her, faces awash with concern. The voice did not relent, echoing in her eardrums. _“I love you…to the void and back…”_

The voice was familiar. Was it Percy’s? She couldn’t tell. Despite the emotion loaded into the words, the voice was toneless and almost too soft to make out. If not for the ringing in her ears droning on to block out everyone else, she would not have heard them.

Then, she screamed.

She fell to her knees as an invisible hand ripped through her chest, tearing out her heart. She was back under the sky suddenly. Rosie tumbled out of her arms. Apollo’s hands pressed down of her, shaking her; she thought she heard his voice calling out frantically, but it faded to the thrumming of the blood rushing through her ears.

Her senses came back slowly, starting with Thalia’s forehead pressed against hers. “-you alright?”

Artemis shook her head. She didn’t know what to say. Even if she did, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to say it. She could feel fire and salt on her face, stinging her nose and swirling on her tongue and the corners of her lips.

Her face was pressed into Thalia’s shoulder. “He’s going to be fine. I’m sure that he’s going to be fine,” Thalia was whispering, but Artemis could feel her body shaking as well. She was hiccoughing, body jerking at an uneven pace as her lungs spasmed. Was she crying too? Certainly. How could she still say those words, then? How could she think that Percy would be okay fighting that _monster_?

“No, he won’t…” Her response was lost to the point that she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud. It didn’t matter anyway, because only second later, a bright flash overtook all of Olympus, and was much closer than all of the ones that came before.

Destruction had returned.

He tossed Chaos to the ground and the creator immediately capsized like a ship with no hull. Percy hung limply in Destruction’s other hand, eye dull and lifeless. Many wounds littered his body, but none was worse than the gaping hole in his chest. It oozed blood sluggishly. The rest of his shirt and pants were already soaked through.

Artemis wailed into Thalia’s chest. He was dead. Percy was dead. He’d lost and he was dead. Destruction had killed him. He was dead _again_ , and this time, there was no coming back.

“Even your mightiest warrior has fallen before me. Who is next to die?” Destruction growled. He threw his head back and laughed, boasting his victory.

“How… _dare_ …you?”

Artemis was seething. She felt the numb aftereffects of her grief submitting to rage as she pushed herself out of Thalia’s arms, out of Apollo’s arms, out of her Huntresses’ arms. She pushed herself away from everyone as she stalked toward the man who killed Percy. She hated him. She hated him with all her heart and soul – what was left of it after he ripped them out and trod over them. He crushed them underfoot.

“How _dare_ you take him away? He was _better than you_! Everyone is better than you, but Percy was the best! He was the kindest, most sincere, hard-working person that I’ve ever met! How _dare_ you take him away?”

Destruction smirked. He glanced at Percy’s body for a second, then laughed again. He _guffawed_.

“Looks like your little girlfriend has a lot to say, nephew.” He was speaking directly to Percy. “But I don’t think I’m liking it. What do you say I shut her little mouth?”

Percy didn’t answer; he couldn’t answer.

He was dead.

“Just like I thought. I’ll take that as a _yes_.” Destruction nodded at Percy before opening his hand, letting his enemy’s body collapse. Percy crumpled. Destruction cracked his knuckles. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he assured Artemis as he walked closer, “it’ll all be over soon.”

Artemis hissed. She spat and cursed and wanted to lunge at him if only her father and sister weren’t holding her back. “I hate you!”

Destruction was unaffected by his words. “In fact, you should be thanking me. It’s only because of me that you two got together in the first place. If not, he would’ve been alive and happy with that _Athena-spawn_. He would’ve lived his life, basking in his victories against the Titan King and the Earth Mother.”

Artemis froze. Her anger melted away to horror. “What are you talking about?”

Destruction’s mouth split apart, lips curling in a crude halfway point between a smile and a snarl. “Exactly what you think I mean, darling. You’d be surprised how far my power will go to fooling you gods. And to think, all I had to do was send a tiny piece of my consciousness to earth in human form…what a simple way to break a person.”

“You are _scum_! Worse than scum! You don’t even deserve to _breathe_ the same air as him!”

“And yet I took everything he had. Admit it. I broke him.” He pursed his lips. “But I’m not a cruel man. I gave him an out. I sent those Titans to relieve him of his misery, too. It was _Chaos_ here who prolonged his pain!”

At her side, Apollo had come to resemble one of the ancient marble statues built in his honour – minus the cracks and clothed. “Sis…what is he saying? He sent Damian to ruin Percy’s life?”

“No. He’s saying that he _was_ Damian.” That voice was new.

Everyone, including Destruction, spun around to face the newest speaker. He was standing just yards away, six wings aloft and cloak swaying in the breeze. Dark red mist still clung to him like desperate hands of ivy. For some reason, Artemis found herself focusing on the fabric of his cloak. She’d thought it was black, but it wasn’t. It was a very, very deep _blue_. The blood-splattered bottom seemed darker than ever.

Who was he? Why was she even focusing on his cloak? Was it the shock? The grief? The instinctual _need_ to preoccupy her thoughts with something so mundane?

Télos stood with a scowl on his face.

They couldn’t tell, of course, what his mouth looked like, because of the bandana, but his eyes spoke volumes.

“ _You_!” Destruction hissed. The word barely seemed real as his voice took on an almost reptilian quality. “You dare show your face to me?”

“Not really. What part of a mask don’t you understand?” Télos plucked at his bandana. He seemed far more relaxed than the last time the Olympians had seen him. Then again, they couldn’t remember. All eyes were wide with confusion at the new player. A few people laughed at the impromptu joke, but another glance at Percy’s mangled body stopped them short.

“Who are _you_?” Zeus asked. He refused to admit that his voice was shaking, but his wife would tell you otherwise.

He didn’t even glance at them. “Destruction! I cannot let you continue!” That was all he said. Then, he charged.

At the same time, Artemis burst forth, determined to avenge the man she’d grown to care for. Destruction prepared himself for the attack, but it never came, as yet another bright light interrupted them.

“Argh!” Apollo cried out. “Now I see why people find it so annoying when _I_ do that!”

“I know, right?” Aether added, blocking his eyes.

Everyone was left blinking the spots out of their eyes. A new figure stood before them. Télos kneeled at his feet. A grey fog settled over Olympus as the breeze stilled to death. The sun was darker than ever, and the world seemed to have taken on a general greyness that reaped the life out of everything around them. The man was grey, too. Grey hair, grey eyes, grey skin, grey clothes. He was drained of all colour, and his eyes held a tired ancientness that only came through overwhelming wisdom and knowledge. (Athena inhaled sharply.)

Chaos, who had only just regained consciousness, stared agape at the man as Order appeared by his side. Both bowed their heads to the man.

Artemis, on the other hand, wasn’t impressed. He could’ve been Gandalf for all she knew, from his long beard to his twisted wooden staff that wrapped around a glittering grey jewel. Overall, if he wasn’t radiating power that made her entire body hum, he could’ve been a bad cosplayer at Comicon. (She’d been interested once and decided to take a look. Interesting, but not her style.) He wore a fancy three-piece suit with a tailcoat, all seemed very detailed and very expensive. Who could he be?

She decided that it didn’t matter because Destruction was looking at the man in utter horror. That was good enough for her.

He swallowed, trying to wet his desert tongue. “F-f-f-father…” he stammered. His hands were trembling at his sides and his shoulders hunched. He looked less like the powerful overlord he asserted himself to be and rather a frightened child who’d just broken a vase. He was about to get chewed out and he knew it.

“Father,” Chaos and Order agreed quietly as they looked up again.

The man didn’t speak a word. He only cast his colourless eyes over Destruction, then his two other children, then the gods and goddesses, before finally coming to rest on Percy’s body. He moved like a phantom, not even taking a step.

“My dear boy…” he whispered.

Turning his head a fraction of an inch, he shot a grey beam of light at Destruction, who fell to his knees and became engulfed in smoke. Then, the man’s frail hand hovered over Percy’s body. Both glowed. The man looked up and met Artemis’ eyes. “His time is done…” He nodded (she wasn’t sure why) and disappeared, fading out of existence and taking Percy’s body with him.

“No! Why?” Artemis suddenly found herself able to move again, but it was too late. Yet again, Percy’s body was taken before she could mourn him. What was it this time? Would he revive Percy again? That shouldn’t be possible! Reviving him the first time shouldn’t have been possible! How could it be done again? _His time is done_? Was that it? His last chance, used up? She had too many questions and not enough answers.

“What did he just do?” she demanded, rounding on Chaos and Order. Behind them, Destruction was still coughing on the ground, curls of smoke drifted from his arms and back.

“That was our father. He resides in the Void, the end of all things. He came to collect Percy so that he could find peace.” Order’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry, my dear, but the Percy you knew won’t be coming back this time. Nothing comes back from the Void. It is…the final death.”

Artemis didn’t think that there was anything that could’ve made her day worse than it already was, but Order just proved that wrong. “W-what? But I thought-?”

Chaos shook his head, then coughed and wheezed. “Not this time, dear. Nothing can save him now.”

“No…” Just when she thought she couldn’t cry anymore, another lone tear marched down her face, numbing her whole entire being on the way down. Was she fading? She felt like it. She could feel her godly essence drifting away. This was why she hated to love. The one time she risked herself, put herself out in the world, her world was yanked away without mercy.

Destruction growled, getting to his feet. “Meddling father…” he snarled. His eyes narrowed in on Artemis. “Meddling goddess…” They drifted to Télos, who stood, glaring back. “Meddling assassin! Everyone is _meddling_! Be _gone_ with you! Where you can’t interfere anymore!” His hand shot out toward Artemis.

“No!” Télos lunged, jumping in front of the beam. That served to do nothing but absorb them both. They vanished into a swirl of colours.

“Where did you send them?” Apollo shouted. “Where did you send my sister?”

Destruction laughed. “I sent them where they cannot interfere with my plans ever again! The past! I knew that fool would jump in to save her. He couldn’t help himself,” he mused.

*******

Even though they’d been swallowed by a neon rainbow on steroids, the inside was as blank as ever. It was an endless expanse of white that threatened to drive Télos to insanity, but he kept his hold on Artemis. She was his lifeline as they fell. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That was his promise; he wouldn’t fail.

Artemis only knew the leathery wings that wrapped around her, skewing her vision, though she knew it was white beyond the barrier. She squinted. Her eyes already stung from the light show and her crying earlier, even though as a goddess she shouldn’t feel any form of mundane discomfort or weariness.

“What’s going on?” she asked the winged man. She didn’t know who he was, but he challenged Destruction and he protected her, so she felt that she could trust him. Besides, he felt…familiar. Somehow, someway, she’d met him before. She was sure she’d have remembered him, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. She was so busy stewing over her memories that she almost missed his reply.

“We’re going somewhere.”

“Where?”

“The past.”

His eyes were purple. She hadn’t noticed that before, but he was so close, now. They were deep, deep purple, shining with lights like stars. _Like Percy’s eyes_ , she mused, before stopping herself. Percy was gone. Dead. They must just be eyes that all of Chaos’ highest-ranking officials had. It was just a coincidence.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 3325**

**CSP2708**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	38. Who is Télos?

Artemis wasn’t sure what to think when the winged man announced that they were going to the past. Never in her immortal life had she travelled through time; she’d thought it was impossible, a fantasy made up by the mortals.

“The past?” she stared deeply into his purple eyes, trying to find some hidden secrets within. Nothing jumped out at her.

He nodded. “Destruction wants us out of the way.”

“Why you? How does Destruction know you? And for that matter, who _are_ you?”

“You know who I am; I’m Télos,” he replied. “Though I’m afraid I had to wipe your memory of our previous encounter – for your own safety, of course. As for how Destruction knows me…as Chaos and Order’s personal assassin, I get around.”

“Their personal assassin?” Artemis focused on the rest of his face, the part that wasn’t covered by the bandana. Beyond his leathery wings, they were probably still falling through a white tunnel, and she didn’t want to see it. She was still disoriented from their initial entry into the time vortex and was sure that the blinding white nothingness flying past them at unfathomable speeds would make her lose her lunch. His arms were secured tightly around her, and while she still disliked males, she strangely didn’t feel disgusted that he was holding her. Perhaps it was just because they were in a dangerous situation.

Télos sighed, bringing her back into the present. “Yes.” He looked around, over her head. “We’re here.”

“Where? And, I guess…when?” she asked. They were still falling rapidly. She didn’t really want to think about what that meant.

Télos’ eyes narrowed. “We’re above Camp Half-Blood, falling to earth. I can’t tell when just by looking at it. It’s been a while since I’ve been here before confronting Destruction just now.”

“But you’ve been here before?” Artemis just had to ask. She wasn’t worried about the fall. She could see a force field knitting itself into existence around them; it would protect them from the landing. With that concern out of the way, she’d allowed herself to pay close attention to Télos’ words. If he could recognize the camp on sight, even if they were far in the past, then he must’ve been there before – maybe more than once.

“I was once a camper there,” he said.

That line nearly stopped Artemis’ immortal heart. He’d been a camper, too? How many of Chaos and Order’s army had come from Earth? From Camp Half-Blood for that matter?

As if he could read her thoughts, the assassin laughed. “All of Chaos and Order’s army from Earth are from either the Greek or Roman camp. That is because the creators, themselves, are from the Greek pantheon. There are other segments of the army from other places, from other worlds, too, but they are divisions run by other creation gods – Chaos and Order’s other forms. In their separate forms, they have other personal assassins, and other army segments,” he explained.

Artemis nodded. That made sense.

They were nearing the ground. She could see the campers all looking up at them, surprised looks on their faces and the two landed right in the middle of the strawberry fields, kicking up scorched vines and a huge cloud of dust. Luckily, they hadn’t hit anyone, because all of the campers, satyrs, and nymphs had already gone running when they saw them.

The force field fell away, letting the dust in to surround them, and she felt Télos’ arms fall away from her body as soon as they were steady on terra firma. Artemis coughed, swiping at the cloud.

As the dust cleared, she looked up. They were in a crater. Lining the rim was a swarm of campers, all glaringly orange in their camp shirts. Chiron and Dionysus were also there, and Dionysus looked more tired and cranky than usual – probably because they’d just destroyed a large chunk of his strawberry field.

“Sorry about your strawberries!” Télos called up at them. He shook the dust off of his leathery wings and drew all six of them in behind him.

“Who are you?” Chiron asked. He held his bow at the ready, poised to fire arrows at the intruders. His eyes then drifted to Artemis and widened. “Lady Artemis? Is that you? Shouldn’t you be up on Olympus?”

Télos turned to Artemis a shrugged. “I’ll alter their memories before we go back anyway, so I guess it won’t matter if we let them know the situation. Perhaps they can help us while we’re here,” he whispered. Then, he turned back to Chiron. “I am Télos, and this is indeed Lady Artemis, but not the one you know.”

Chiron furrowed his eyebrows. His fingers tightened around his bow. “What do you mean?”

“We are from the future. A new enemy called Destruction sent us here. He is the brother of the creators, Chaos and Order, and he wishes to take control of the universe to – as his name suggests – destroy it. We must return at once, but to do that, I must have time to sense the energy of time’s waters. They’ve been disturbed by our arrival and must settle before we can traverse them again.”

Artemis’ eyes widened. She didn’t know that he could also time travel. He must be far more powerful than she originally thought.

“Cool wings!” a camper shouted down at them, and Artemis’ heart stuttered yet again. It was Percy. From the past, of course, but it was him. He looked so happy.

Télos grinned. “Thank you, Perseus.”

Percy’s grin faded as his eyes widened in surprise. How did the stranger from the future know his full name? How did he even know his name in general? How far in the future were they even from? Artemis didn’t seem that different, though she was immortal, so she wasn’t the best clue to go by when measuring time.

Télos turned to Artemis, holding out his hand. “My lady?”

“I’m fine on my own, thank you,” she replied. She smiled at him before hiking up the side of the crater. She winced as she looked back at the size of it.

He was swiftly at her side, though kept his distance. “My lady, the prince asked me to protect you should he fail in defeating his uncle. I have already allowed you to be sent back to the past; I cannot allow anything else to happen to you.”

Artemis grimaced. “I’m sure he did, and that’s sweet of him, but he’s gone, and we’re trapped here. I can handle myself.”

“Of course, my lady.” He turned back to the crater and waved his hand. The crater vanished, refilling itself as the rows reformed and strawberries regrew.

“How did you do that?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

“The prince and I share powers of creation. We are very close…in many ways.”

“Then how come he never mentioned you?”

“It is safer that way.”

“Okay.” Artemis walked up to Chiron. “I’ve only just met him myself, but I trust him. It seems we’ll be here for a while, though. Is it alright if we remain here in the camp?”

“By all means, milady,” Chiron replied. He still looked confused. Perhaps it was the time travel, or the strange winged man, or maybe even the fact that Artemis, a goddess, had just asked him permission to stay at the camp.

“And…what year is it?” Artemis asked. Her gaze wandered over the campers, trying to pick out who she knew to figure out the year. It was before Damian had arrived for sure. That was before Destruction became active, probably because he didn’t want to risk them interfering with his plan at all.

“August twentieth, twenty-ten,” one of the campers answered. Artemis didn’t recognize him.

Beside her, Télos stiffened, inhaling a sharp breath. She glanced back at him. What was that about?

She didn’t give it much thought, however, as her mind was instead occupied with the date. August twentieth meant three days. Three days before Damian – Destruction – arrived to make Percy’s life a living hell. Then, Percy would die. She looked up at Percy again. He was so young, happy, innocent. His glittering sea-green eyes had not yet seen the sorrow of the world. His arm was still slung around Annabeth’s shoulders.

She held back a growl at the sight of the Athena-spawn. Even though she’d been innocent, she’d still been the last chink in Percy’s armour before he crumbled. If only Percy knew what was in store for him. _No._ She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t stop what was about to happen. She may have never time travelled before, but she knew the implications of changing anything drastically. That was why Télos had to erase all of their memories. That was why they had to be back to the future in less than three days. Before Damian arrived.

Artemis was snapped out of her brooding as Chiron spoke. “My lady, we have two rooms in the Big House for you to stay in whilst you are here.”

“Thank you, Chiron.”

“If I may ask, what time do you come from?”

Artemis bit her cheek before saying, “We’re from five years in the future. Things are…very different, to say the least.”

Before the conversation could commence, Annabeth called out, “If you’re Lady Artemis, then who is he? I’ve never heard of anyone named Télos before. He’s not Greek or Roman as far as I know. And why does he wear that costume?”

It took a moment for Artemis to remember that some of the campers had had encounters with gods of the other pantheons. Was that what Annabeth meant? Télos cut her off before she could speak. For some reason, his voice was rough and raw with emotion.

“I was once a camper here, but in the future, I work under Lord Chaos and Lady Order. The _costume_ is part of my uniform, as a way of keeping my true identity secret. Plus, I think Chaos just likes to dress us up.” He tried to laugh, but it fell flat.

Annabeth put the hand that wasn’t around Percy on her hip. “So your name isn’t really Télos, then?”

“That is correct.”

“When were you a camper here?” Piper asked.

Télos grimaced. “I’d rather not say.”

“What’s with the wings? Are you, like, some freaky vampire or something?” That question came from another daughter of Aphrodite; Artemis could tell by the excessive makeup caking her face.

He chuckled a little. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, they’re _bat_ wings, aren’t they? And there are _six_ of them. Who needs that many wings? Who needs wings in general? They must make dressing a hassle.”

“Don’t worry; I have all of my clothes custom made, and I can retract them when I need to, but I’d rather keep them out for a fear factor. Adds to my presence, don’t you think?” He flared his wings a little, casting a long shadow over the strawberries.

A few of the campers shrunk back in fear.

“But, then, who are you?” the same Aphrodite girl asked.

He sighed and glanced at Artemis. She was looking back at him and couldn’t hide the curiosity written across her face. She wanted to know, too. He’d said he was once a camper, but she didn’t recognize him. The other members of Chaos’ army had all revealed themselves, and while she understood that as the assassin his job was very important and posed a lot of danger to him and everyone he knew, she couldn’t help but want to know what he looked like under the mask.

Then, he shrugged. “I’ll have to erase this from your minds later, anyway, but…” he pulled down the bandana, “my name is Percy Jackson.”

Gasps echoed across the field.

“But you look nothing like him!” a son of Hermes protested. A boy stood next to him, and they looked so similar that they could have been twins. They must be the Stoll brothers, but Artemis couldn’t pick out who had just spoken.

With a wave of his hand, Télos’ face changed slightly. It was like the Mist to mortals as his features shifted just the barest amount until he was the spitting image of Percy, albeit older and more rugged. He seemed to be in his prime.

Absolute silence fell over the camp. Well, almost absolute silence. Percy himself – the past Percy – was spluttering. Artemis was in a similar state, but she at least had enough self-control to make no noise. Her jaw dropped and her eyes were wide, but otherwise, she just stared silently at Télos.

“What?” she finally found the words. “But…but…”

Chiron glanced between her and Percy. “Milady, you didn’t know?”

She just shook her head.

“I get _wings_? Awesome!” Percy shouted, grinning from ear to ear. Annabeth’s eyes raked over Télos appraisingly, occasionally flitting to Percy as if she was comparing the two.

Then, everyone began speaking at once. Since the two had arrived, many more campers joined them in the strawberry fields, so it seemed like the whole camp was gathered around them, all speaking at once.

Finally, Artemis had had enough. “Quiet!” she shouted over the noise.

The cacophony dimmed into nothingness.

She turned to Télos. Her eyes were hard. It took everything in her not to cry. “How can you be Percy? I saw him _die_ right in front of my eyes. Void took away his body.” Her words were barely above a whisper, but they seemed to echo in the silence of the camp. Not even the birds dared to chirp over the goddess.

Télos sighed, closing his purple eyes. Those eyes were the only things that didn’t change when he transformed. “I’ll explain everything to you, but only you.” He looked at the rest of the campers around them. “I do not wish to share anything more with you, as it will harder for me to alter your memories later.”

“You’re going to mess with our minds? Why? How?” Annabeth interrogated. Her hand around Percy had migrated to his arm and was gripping it tightly.

“We’ve travelled through time. Anything that we say or do here will alter the timeline, and I for one do not want to risk a major change for the worst. Normally, I erase all traces of me from people’s minds, but since Artemis and I have to stay here for a couple of days, I can only alter your memories. I will not be making more work for myself by sharing any more about the future than I already have,” he said sternly. “Artemis, if you wish to know more, follow me.”

He led her away from the others.

Just as they passed Nico, they heard him whisper to Percy, “Damn Perce, you get really scary in the future.”

“I’m going to choose to ignore that, Nico,” Télos said, glaring slightly at him.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2485**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	39. Percy or Not Percy? That is the Question

As soon as they were out of sight of the others, Artemis was the one to take Télos in her grip and drag him away. She dragged him all the way up the stairs of the Big House and into one of the private rooms before she let go, dumping him on the floor. She leaned against the table with her arms crossed.

“You’d better explain yourself right now,” she demanded.

Still rubbing his red ear, Télos looked up at her sheepishly. “Well, the explanation is very simple.”

“Then let’s hear it!”

“I’m a different Percy.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

He sighed. “It means exactly what I said it means. You gods have many different forms doing all sorts of different things for you, and the only time you’re all together is when you reveal your true form. When I became the heir, I became the same.”

Her eyes widened. She pushed herself away from the table and reached up. Her hands brushed along his cheeks as if to prove he was actually real. “So…you’re actually Percy?”

“Sort of. You see, the prince and I were split the moment we received Chaos and Order’s blessings. We are two separate people, and though we share memories and powers, we aren’t exactly the same. We have different experiences at the forefronts of our minds.” He stood; her hands followed. “You may want me to be your Percy, but I’m not, not exactly. I’m sorry.”

“But…you _are_ Percy. You are! You said it worked like how we gods work, and even though we take different forms, we can always revert to the form we want to! Why wouldn’t it be the same with you?”

He stepped back from her and shook his head. “I’m not. My name is Télos. I may now have to step up in defeating Destruction and taking up the crown as the new heir, but I am not the prince. The prince is gone.”

Artemis didn’t know why, nor could she explain what happened, but suddenly a switch in her mind flipped, and she became angry. Who was he to tell her that he wasn’t Percy? Of _course_ , he was! He came from the same person as the prince, and different experiences or no, he and Percy shared memories! They were one and the same. Who cared if they were split apart physically? “If Percy couldn’t defeat Destruction, then what hope could _you_ possibly have? You’re equal to him, aren’t you? And he had the Cryptile.”

Télos grinned. “Not exactly. You see, when Percy gained the creators’ blessings, we split into Abaddon and myself, Télos, because the power was too much. Our body couldn’t handle the power all at once, and we were too unskilled with it to use it all right away.”

“And your point is?” Artemis arched an eyebrow.

“After our many years of training, we became ready to merge. We’ve been ready for decades now, but staying separate was more fun, and honestly, easier, because we each had places to be and roles to fill, but now that Abaddon is dead, I have regained all of Percy’s powers, including the Cryptile and their consciousnesses. I can feel them slumbering within me as we speak, regaining their strength.”

“Then, you _are_ Percy?”

“I still feel more like Télos, but I guess, in a way, eventually I will no longer be Abaddon _or_ Télos, and I’ll be back to being Percy. For now, I’m not, but I have all of our powers and more. I know that I can defeat Destruction, just as soon as we can get out of here.”

Artemis was still fairly confused, but she was sure that she understood the main point. Back when he’d died the first time, he’d been gifted with far too much power to contain and split into two entities as a failsafe. Now, they were back as one – still leaning heavily to one side, but back together, nonetheless. That meant that eventually, once they were back in sync, she would get Percy back! In a way, at least…

“You said that we’d have to wait a few days before we could go back, right? To not risk the space-time continuum or something?”

“Yeah. We can’t leave right away, but we can’t stay here any longer than two days because Damian – I mean, Destruction – arrives in three and he will recognize me and my power. When we’re ready, I’ll alter everyone’s memories and take us right back to the second after he sent us away.”

“Why so soon?”

“I worry about what he might do to them.”

He collapsed on the bed, letting a monster of a breath whoosh out of his lungs like he was releasing all of the worry and tension he’d amassed over the past few _years_.

Artemis looked down at him. “When we get back, will you tell the others the truth?”

“About me being Percy? Yeah, probably. Now that the prince is dead, I have to.” He grinned up at her. “Especially if I’m going to stick around for a while.”

Artemis’ heart jerked. That was Percy talking. She just knew it. She knew that glint in his eyes anywhere. “And…why would you be sticking around any longer after defeating Destruction?” she asked when she found her voice again.

“Perhaps a certain moon goddess would be around to change my mind about leaving.” His lips quirked into a lopsided smile.

Her heart thudded again. “I fell in love with Percy. Just because you’re half Percy doesn’t mean I’ll fall all over you. I still stand by my reputation.”

“As a man-hater?” he teased.

“As an independent woman. I am a Huntress, and I don’t need any companionship aside from my sisters, my hunters.”

“And what about Percy?” Télos was back. The cheeky glint was misplaced in his eyes, but not completely diminished. Instead, it was overpowered by a haunted shadow. It was replaced by eyes that had seen death, and a lot of it.

“I am a maiden goddess,” she affirmed. “I may love Percy, and he is the only man I’ve allowed myself to become this close to, but that does not mean I will change my ways.”

“But you’ve kissed him.” His smirk grew yet again as he sat up. “This face. _These lips_ …”

Artemis decided she didn’t like this version of Percy. She also decided that he was right; they weren’t the same. This one had spent over five hundred years in a mysterious and cheeky persona, sneaking around and playing the obscure role of an assassin. Those five hundred years _really_ made all the difference.

“That’s as far as we’ll ever go. Ever.” She glared at him. “ _And_ , that’s the last I’ll say on the matter. Good day to you.” She slammed the door behind her as she left.

Télos chuckled.

 _“You shouldn’t have done that_ ,” a quiet voice whispered in his head.

 _“Lay off, Abaddon,”_ he responded. It had been far too long since he’d heard that voice in his head, but he still could recognize it anywhere. It was his, albeit more sensitive and emotional. _“I spoke the truth. What’s a maiden goddess who’s in love with a man?”_

The voice growled back so savagely that he thought Tile had already awoken. Alas, it was Abaddon, and the Cryptile was still recharging from their big fight against Destruction. They’d probably be out until morning.

_“Stop talking about her that way. I’m starting to rethink about us merging.”_

Télos almost cackled. _“You can’t rethink it; your body is already gone! Where would you go?”_

Abaddon just sighed. _“So we’ll just be like Jekyll and Hyde? Two consciousnesses sharing a single body? Or will we go back to being Percy?”_

“I don’t know,” he said aloud to the empty room. “I kind of like being myself. Maybe we’ll stay like this, but _I_ call driving the body.”

Abaddon groaned. _“What are we going to tell Crypt and Tile? It was bad enough when we had_ two _bodies to share! Now all four of us in one, single body? I think I’d like to go back to being dead.”_

 _“Be my guest.”_ With that, Télos reclined once more and closed his eyes. He could really use a long nap.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 1380**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	40. In the Mirror

After leaving Percy…Télos…whoever he was in his room in the Big House, Artemis didn’t know what to think. He was Percy but wasn’t Percy? And he’d go back to being Percy, but not the Percy she’d known for the past few weeks because that had been Abaddon? It was all too confusing.

And definitely not something she wanted to deal with at the moment, especially not when they were trapped in the past.

She closed the door to her own room, ignoring the plain décor and collapsed onto the pristinely made bed. _‘Sorry Chiron,’_ she thought.

“So, this is what I become.”

Artemis startled awake immediately, spinning around to see…herself. She nearly fell off the bed because she hadn’t split herself at all since coming here; the rest of her immortal essence was still in the future, probably fumbling around just like she was without the rest of her.

The Artemis that was standing in front of her was not a part of her, that was for sure. Perhaps she was the Artemis from this point in time.

“Don’t just stare at me,” the other Artemis said. Her hands were on her hips as she moved from the doorway. “Say something.”

“Um…”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me that I become this dumb in the future.”

“Hey! You would be a little absent-minded, too, if you were trying to keep your immortal essence in sync while over five years apart!” She groaned, rubbing at her temples. “Gods, it’s like my brain is being picked apart by the giants!”

“Fine, I’ll give you that, but what’s this I hear about you showing up in the company of a _male_? And where are the Hunters?”

Pushing aside the pain radiating through her skull, Artemis sat up and positioned herself so that she was leaning against the pillows. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her not to be in such a vulnerable position with someone else so close, but her body weighed heavily upon her, and it was herself. What harm could – or would – she do to her?

“ _My_ Hunters are back in the future, completely _not_ safe until T… Percy and I get back. And as for showing up with him, I really had no choice. Our enemy, Destruction, sent us both back in time together because we were the ones making the most trouble for him. It’s as simple as that.”

Her other self did not seem convinced. “But wouldn’t he realize that you can get back like Perseus said? I heard that he could time travel the both of you back, but it would take a few days rest here before you can. Still, you’d be able to get to the exact point he launched you out of, so what’s the point?”

That was a good point.

What _was_ the point of sending the two of them back in time if they could just return to the same exact point?

“I’m not sure.” This was all just making her head hurt so much more.

“Then you’re useless.” The other Artemis huffed. “I guess I’ll search for answers elsewhere.” She turned to leave, but Artemis called out, stopping her.

“What makes you think you deserve answers?”

“You’re me, aren’t you? Figure it out. Wouldn’t _you_ like answers, too, if a future version of yourself suddenly showed up?”

“I mean, I guess so. Speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to understand what is going on with Percy – or at least help _me_ to understand it?” She knew it was a risk, talking about Percy because she might accidentally expose her relationship with him to her past self, but the confusion had been bugging her ever since they spoke, and it was doing nothing to soothe her headache.

“Perhaps. What’s going on?”

“He says that he _is_ Percy and _isn’t_ Percy. Um… I guess he started as the Perseus you know from your timeline, and when he was blessed by Chaos and Order, he split into two versions of himself – kind of like our Greek and Roman forms. We have slightly different personalities because of how the mortals viewed us, and Percy has the same sort of thing going on.”

The other Artemis raised an eyebrow. She perched on the edge of the bed. “So, what you’re telling me is that he just became a deity and has two forms…and you’re confused by this? Gods, you _really_ are jumbled by this whole, time-travelling thing.”

Artemis’ face flushed. “No! I mean, yeah, but not like that! He only has two forms, and though they shared a memory bank, they’re two different people, entirely, and now that Percy – who was actually the Abaddon side of him died, both of their consciousnesses are back in a single body, separately.”

“What do you mean, _separately_?”

“He said he felt more like Télos, which is the second personality, and he was acting completely different than the Percy I know.”

“Did you know that Télos was Percy before now? You seem pretty perplexed by this.”

“No, I had no idea!”

“So is he acting any differently from before you know he was Percy?”

“Well…no.”

“Then you’re just making a big deal of this. Just because he has the same face as someone you know, doesn’t mean he’s going to act like him.”

“That’s not the really confusing part, though. He said that he might just go back to being Percy, instead of Abaddon _or_ Télos.”

“So his personalities are just going to merge again and you’re worried that you don’t know what he’s going to be like when that happens. You know him well in the future, don’t you?” The other Artemis was getting a bit suspicious now. She didn’t like the idea of herself encroaching on her oath by aligning herself with a male. The closer she grew to them, the closer she was to tiptoeing the vague criteria of her oath, and while she swore never to be in a relationship with a male or take their company, she’d had male friends in the past and none of them had worked out.

Artemis kept silent for a moment, unable to think of a way to respond to her other self’s accusation. Was it true? Was what she really feared how Percy would end up when he merged again? He definitely wouldn’t be the Percy she knew and loved, but also wouldn’t be Télos, who she found immature and revolting.

“The truth is…I’m not really sure what is the most confusing part. He has two personalities in one body, and he said that eventually, he might just merge back into one, but for now, he’s stuck with switching between the two like some sort of…I don’t know…”

“Jekyll and Hyde?” her other self suggested. “I heard him talking to no one in his room on my way up here. That’s the first thing I thought of.”

“That mostly describes it, I guess,” she agreed. “I’m glad we talked, even though it’s a bit weird talking to myself.”

The past Artemis smiled softly – a smile that she would never have admitted to giving in the current time period. “Me too. It’s not what I came here looking for, but it gives me hope for the future. Hopefully, when you get back, you can defeat Destruction.”

Artemis suddenly jolted. “That’s it!” she cried.

The other Artemis flew off the edge of the bed, startled by the erratic movement. “What’s it?” she inquired.

“I know why Destruction sent us here! He knew that to get back, we’d have to wait a few days. He wants Percy to have to relive him coming to camp! If Destruction comes to camp as Damian before Percy and I leave, he won’t be able to wipe all of your memories without Destruction realizing what’s going on. He could keep the memories of us and change the timeline, which would make us cease to exist as we are. That, alone would collapse the timeline and destroy everything, just like he wanted!”

The other Artemis let out a breath. “Then I guess you should hope that you get back before he realizes you’re here. He might show up early if he senses you.”

“Oh, my gods.”

*******

“Percy!” She was banging on his door for almost ten minutes by the time he finally answered it. His eyes cast lazily over the two Artemises. Both had dire expressions, with her slightly askew with frustration and annoyance.

“Gods, does it always take him this long to answer a door?” the past Artemis mumbled behind her.

Artemis ignored her past self’s moodiness. “Percy, we have a problem.”

Something suddenly seemed to change in his demeanour. He became less lethargic and his eyes focused on hers. “What is it?” he asked as he straightened his spine.

If her news wasn’t so urgent, Artemis would’ve sighed in relief. Percy – Abaddon – was back. “I’ve-” she was interrupted by the pointed clearing of a throat. “Sorry, _we_ have figured out why Destruction sent us back here. He’s counting on the fact that we won’t be able to make it back before he shows up at camp as Damian. He wants to destroy the timeline, therefore destroying the universe just like his plan all along!”

“The only question that remains is why he didn’t send you guys back here later, to right before he shows up as Damian?” the other Artemis pointed out.

“That’s simple enough,” Percy said. “It’s a major event in the timeline. When Void emerged from nothingness and created the concepts of time and space for his children to build in, he set up safeguards. Major events are protected by these safeguards and therefore cannot be messed with, in that respect.”

“So he sent us back to the point closest to that event in hopes that we’d be too late to change it?” Artemis asked.

Percy nodded. “Yes. He underestimates my power as he did before. Now that I’m back together with Télos in one body, our power has combined. We’ll be able to defeat him this time, for good.”

The other Artemis sighed in relief, letting her shoulders finally relax. “That’s fantastic…wait. You said Télos. My future self told me about this. Does that mean you’re…?”

“I’m Abaddon, right now, yes. Or, as you knew me, Percy. We’re trapped in the same body again and aren’t really used to it yet. He finally let me take over.”

“So eventually, you’ll just go back to being one person?” Artemis was afraid to ask, but she just _had_ to know. Now that the issue with Destruction was out of the way and they’d be back before destroying the entire universe, she could go back to the second most confusing thing since their journey through time.

“No. Télos and I have decided that we like our separate selves far too much to merge, so we’ll probably be stuck like this forever now. What’s another voice in my head?”

“What?”

His eyes widened as if he hadn’t meant to say that. He tried to laugh it off. “I mean, you know, with Haetros in my head, too. Now there’s three of us in here!” he tapped the side of his head, then winced. “Télos is yelling at me right now. I’d better deal with this.” With that, he bid them goodnight and closed the door again.

The stood there for a few minutes in silence. “You were right. That was weird,” the other Artemis declared. She let out a low whistle and chuckled. “Good luck with that,” she said, clapping a hand on her future self’s left shoulder.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 1935**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	41. Back to the Future (No, Not the Movie)

_“You have to stop doing that, Télos.”_ Abaddon scolded. _“I was trying to have a conversation dealing with life and death and the destruction of the universe.”_

Télos scoffed. _“Yeah, yeah. Destruction of the universe. Yada, yada, yada.”_

“This is not a laughing matter!” he yelled aloud. Abaddon winced, hoping that the girls were gone and that no one else was wandering the Big House halls. _“I mean it. You’ve lived some carefree traveller’s assassin lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean that you can scoff at my responsibilities now that we’re joined just because you don’t want to deal with it.”_

 _“I get it. I really do. I have responsibilities, too. To the Assassins Guild, remember? I just don’t see what the big deal is if we can properly get back in time and you’re getting yourself so worked up that you’ve almost spilled all our secrets to your little_ girlfriend _.”_

_“She’s not my girlfriend! I mean…I don’t know what we are, but…what does it matter if I told them about Crypt and Tile? You’ll erase one of their minds anyway, and I think I’m finally ready to tell Artemis the truth.”_

Télos didn’t agree with his sentiment. The Cryptile was a monstrous being of great power, but he was still a monster, and Artemis was the great monster-hunter. Besides, he was an assassin. Keeping secrets was in his nature, whether he needed to keep them or not. _“She won’t accept you._ ” He was convinced of this. _“She hunts monsters, and sorry to say, but the Cryptile_ is _a monster. She barely accepts you as it is now that I’m here. I don’t think she likes me very much.”_

 _“That’s because you’re a jerk.”_ Abaddon shut him out just then, locking him away within their mind. He deserved the body for a little while. He did _die_ , after all, when fighting against their greatest enemy. Télos didn’t even come out to fight against Destruction until the battle was already over.

He couldn’t remember falling asleep, nor did he remember dreaming, but when he woke up the next morning, the sun was shining in through the window directly into his face, and he saw flashes of a battle in his head – a battle that hadn’t happened yet. Or maybe they had; he couldn’t recognize the fighters.

Nevertheless, his first stop was Artemis’ room. He was quite worried about how she was faring. Though he’d travelled through time before, he had only ever been split into two forms, Abaddon and Télos, and while he’d felt the pull between time periods before, this was Artemis’ first time and she didn’t have two very separate personalities driving each of her bodies, she was controlling it all. Being apart from the rest of her immortal essence could _not_ be good on her life force.

She answered second after his third knock, still heavy-eyed and dreary. The skin around her cheekbones was pulled taut and her lips seemed fixed in a permanent slanted grimace.

“Good morning,” he greeted politely, trying to keep his voice down. If goddesses could get hangovers, she was having one of the worst he’d ever seen.

She groaned in return, running a hand through her hair. She was definitely worse than the night before. Luckily, he felt the river of time snap back into place quicker than usual, so they would be able to return to their time later that afternoon instead of the next morning.

“Good news,” he announced just above a whisper. He told her his plans and she just barely managed to crack a smile.

“Good,” she mumbled. “Very good.”

“Can I get you anything?” he offered. “Nectar, ambrosia?”

“Yes,” came her monosyllabic answer.

He winced, making a mental note to write a guidebook to all things gods _shouldn’t_ do, time travel being at the top of that list.

 _“Right along with fighting a deity more powerful than yourself,”_ Télos growled in his ear. _“Yeah, I’m still here, Romeo.”_

 _“Thanks a lot,”_ he thought back as he darted down the stairs to get the godly food for Artemis. Luckily, it was right where it always was, and he filled a tray generously with squares and a tall glass with a metal straw (reusable, just like he knew Artemis liked).

The second time he got to her door, he knocked lightly and then entered, balancing the tray on one arm. She was back in bed, stuffed between half a dozen pillows at least. He set the tray on the nightstand and handed her the glass, then pulled up a chair.

“Don’t worry; we’ll be back in our time by this evening, and you’ll be right back to your usual self, too.”

“I hate this,” she said. “I’ve become mortal before – parts of me, for disguise – but nothing like this. It’s so awful!” She took a raspy breath and sipped from the straw, savouring the flavour of the nectar on her tongue.

 _“For all that she’s saying, she sure does speak well. Full sentences and everything,”_ Télos murmured.

_“She prides herself in her grace and eloquence. You’re just jealous that she takes sick days better than you do.”_

_“Am not!”_ Télos protested.

 _“You really are,”_ Tile interrupted. Abaddon could almost hear the grin in his voice.

_“I must agree with them. When you get sick, you really do get sick. And you don’t take it very well.”_

Télos growled. _“What is it? Gang Up on the Assassin day? Quit it!”_

 _“It’s merely the truth. A truth that you can’t handle, it seems,”_ Crypt said.

As the other three kept arguing within his head, Abaddon turned his attention to Artemis, who was already halfway through her plate of ambrosia squares. She was looking much better; the colour had already returned to her cheeks and her eyes were less gaunt. She finished the last one was a sigh of contentment.

“Thank you, Percy. I feel much better now,” she said.

“It’s not a problem,” he replied. “What would you like to do with your day? We’re only here for seven more hours.”

“No idea…but I think we should come up with a plan to defeat Destruction. We’ll be going back to the exact moment he sent us away, so we’ll have the element of surprise since he won’t be expecting us back. Other than that, I’m not sure. He defeated you once, so how sure are you that you can get him this time?”

“I didn’t have Télos with me before. I faced Destruction once, so I know his strategies and his fighting style, just like he knows mine – but he doesn’t know Télos’. With our combined power, we should be strong enough to defeat him.”

“You’ve said that before, but I still…can't help but worry.”

He took her hand. “I know. I can’t tell you not to, but just know that if anything happens, I won’t let him fulfill his plan. I won’t let him hurt anyone ever again.”

“I trust you,” she replied.

Their moment was disrupted by a fake vomiting sound coming from within his head. It was Télos, of course. _“Gods, you guys are awful. Just kiss already!”_

Abaddon blushed, turning his head away so that Artemis wouldn’t see. He didn’t want to have to explain that to her. Knowing that he had a voice in his head was bad enough, it would be even worse if she knew just how insensitive that voice could be. At least Crypt and Tile weren’t that bad. Then again, he’d been sharing a body with those two for over five hundred years (and they’d already been sharing a lot longer) whereas Télos was still very new to this.

The next seven hours were spent hiding from campers who wanted to know what was going on, including Percy, who wanted to know what would happen to him in the future. Abaddon spent most of his morning after breakfast teleporting from place to place until he finally found refuge behind Artemis’ cabin. The Hunters weren’t at camp, even though their mistress had stopped by the night before, so he wouldn’t be disturbing them, and no one would think to look for him there, so he was sure he was safe.

Artemis had it easy. She was still feeling a little sick from the Time Splitting, so no one really bothered her (it gave her one mean glare!). She’d spent her time at the archery fields, splitting arrow after arrow as she shot at the close targets, far targets, moving targets, and behind-the-back targets. And though her aim was impeccable, it was also an excellent deterrent to anyone who wanted to ask her questions, because she could just as easily hit you if she wanted to.

“I guess now it’s time for you two to take your leave?” Chiron asked as Abaddon joined Artemis at the archery fields. He’d just trotted out there to let her know that it was just about time for dinner, and if she wanted to go early to eat before the campers arrived.

“Yes. It was delightful to be here, with no one attacking the camp, but we must be getting back to save our world,” Artemis said. She winced, grabbing her head. Without the distraction of shooting arrows, the throbbing had returned with a vengeance. “And…I must reunite with the rest of my immortal form.”

Chiron nodded. “Understandable.” He turned to Abaddon. “And you, Percy my boy? You said that you would have to erase our memories, so I suppose none of us will remember having you here to begin with.” He smiled. “Still, it’s nice to know that you have found yourself a place in the future and that you are happy, my boy.” He held out his hand for Abaddon to shake and he graciously accepted, pulling his former teacher into a firm hug.

“Farewell, then, Chiron. You will meet us again in five years. For now, enjoy the time you have with our present selves.”

“I will.”

Abaddon nodded once more before fully turning toward Artemis, holding out both of his hands for her to take. Once her hands were in his, his whole body began to glow, and a sparkling light settled over the whole camp. Everyone, including the campers who’d crept out from the edges of the archery field, collapsed to the ground.

“Is that what happened when you wiped my memory before?” Artemis asked.

“When Télos did, you mean? Yes. That’s what happened. When they wake up, they won’t remember anything about us, only that there was a meteor shower last night.”

“And the people that were following you around all day today?”

“They’ll remember a stray puppy wandering the camp. Everyone wanted to pet him,” Abaddon replied with a grin.

“Fair enough. What about my past self?”

“I’ll have to erase her mind as well. She’ll remember coming to camp to speak to Chiron about her next visit with the Hunters. It’s just about time to have another Capture the Flag match.” He paused for a second. “Are you ready?”

“More than ready,” she replied.

With another nod, Abaddon’s power lit up once again, engulfing them in the jaws of a white beast. They fell back into the currents of time.

*******

He should have expected things to go wrong. He should have realized that Destruction would have a backup plan for when his time travel plan ultimately failed.

But he didn’t. Not Abaddon, or Télos, Tile, or even Crypt had predicted the full extent of Destruction’s plan when he sent them back in time.

As soon as they returned to the currents of time, Artemis began screaming. She curled in on herself, holding her midsection as she wailed, lungs pouring out into the aura of protection he’d placed around them.

“Artemis? Artemis, what’s wrong?” he asked, fretting. He wanted to hold her but at the same time, he didn’t want to touch her, for fear of making it worse. What was happening? He knew that she’d struggled being split through time, but the fatigue and nausea should have been the worst of it. What was possibly happening now?

Artemis kept screaming. She vomited, which, as soon as it dropped past their protective barrier, was disintegrated in the flow of time. Abaddon hoped it wouldn’t appear anywhere populated – or at all. He still wasn’t sure what happened when something directly entered the timestream.

 _“Guys, what do I do?”_ he cried desperately at the others.

 _“I’d say hurry up and get out of the timestream!”_ Tile was the only one to give an answer, and it was good enough for Abaddon, so he abandoned his original plan to take them directly back to the point Destruction sent them away from and shot them out of the timestream right then and there.

Their bubble popped as soon as they hit the ground. Artemis collapsed, unconscious, in his arms and he pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her lips.

 _“She must hate this trip,_ ” Télos remarked. _“It just always seems like she’s your damsel in distress.”_

“Stop it,” Abaddon growled back at him. “If it were any other god or goddess, they’d be the same way, and I’d treat them the same. She is _not_ weak.”

 _“Really? You’d cradle Zeus or Ares in your arms if they started screaming and vomiting?”_ Tile teased.

“You two are horrendous.” Abaddon ignored them after that.

 _“If you are all quite done, perhaps we should rather focus on_ when _we are and_ where _we ended up?”_ Crypt suggested.

At least there was still one rational voice in his head.

Abaddon turning, looking around. His eyes widened significantly. “Guys? I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2275**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	42. I'm Not Bleeding; It's Just Strawberries

***First Person Point of View ~ Abaddon***

_“Kansas?”_ Tile asked. _“We never_ were _in Kansas. What even_ is _Kansas?”_

 _“It’s a joke, you imbecile! It references a human movie called The Wizard of Oz.”_ There was so much sarcasm in Télos’ voice that Abaddon could just imagine him rolling his eyes.

Tile, however, didn’t seem to pick up on his head-mate’s tone. _“Humans have wizards?”_

“Yes, we have wizards,” Abaddon said with a sigh. He got some strange stares; perhaps he shouldn’t have said that out loud.

“Are you talking to Télos again?” Artemis’ voice was distant like it wasn’t coming from her mouth, but rather from far away, across the field. Her eyes were still closed as I looked down at her, flickering back and forth beneath their lids with the nervousness of fluttering birds.

“Yeah…” I whispered to her.

The corners of her mouth ticked upward. “Where’d we end up? You left the timestream early, didn’t you?”

“I had to.”

“That was my fault. I’m sorry.” Her head lolled to the side, resting in the crook of my elbow. Her hair, like an auburn wave, crashed over my arm and onto the overgrown strawberry patch beneath us, melding with the lush green leaves and bloodred berries. I winced. Dionysus wouldn’t like us messing with his plants.

“It’s alright. It’s not your fault. I should’ve realized that you’d have that sort of reaction to time travel. I just…”

A single, wavering hand stopped me from continuing. “You couldn’t have known I’d react that way. I didn’t have it the last time we time-travelled, so why would I have it this time?” Her voice was getting quieter, so much so that I had to strain my ears to hear her.

“Be still for now; I’ll get everything sorted,” I promised. Then, I looked up, and yet again, locked eyes with myself. “This isn’t what I planned,” I said to him.

The Prince folded his arms, a wary, yet still a somewhat amused smile on his face. He was the only one in the large strawberry field. It was before dawn, going by the dark blanket of sky, and he’d only discovered us by mistake. Leaving the timestream must’ve left some magical residue.

“I can see that. Time-travelling gone wrong?” he asked. Concern flashed in his eyes behind the mask, and I quickly summoned a mask of my own to hide my face. Luckily, it was only him out here this early, so I didn’t have to worry about giving away his – my – identity just yet. However, just in case anyone else showed up, I didn’t want to risk it.

“Turns out gods can’t handle long-distance travel along the timestream. The longer they are disconnected from the rest of their immortal being, the weaker they become. It strains them far too much.”

He nodded. “I would say that I’d keep that in mind, though I’m afraid I won’t have much choice, considering you’ll have to erase this encounter from my mind before you leave again.”

I stood, lifting Artemis with me. Immediately, my past self began laughing, nearly knocking himself over.

“What?”

He took a deep breath, unable to contain his giggles. “You have strawberry jam on your butt!”

I glared, glancing down even though I couldn’t see my butt at this angle. I must’ve landed right on one of the strawberry plants. “Har, har,” I said, very much not amused. That just sent him into a brand-new bout of laughter.

Artemis groaned, shifting in my arms. Even asleep she didn’t seem to like being picked up. Perhaps it made her feel weak. She didn’t like feeling like a damsel, but these were circumstances beyond our control, and I wouldn’t have any other choice but to move her. She wouldn’t be better until we returned to our own timeline anyway.

“ _Anyway_ , I’m kind of on a time crunch here, as you can see. Mind helping us get back?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Depends. When do you need to go? You know you can only make a certain number of time jumps within the External Time.”

“Less than a year from now. I can’t give you details, but we must return to the exact point or Destruction will destroy everything.”

He sucked in a breath. The dark cloak around him seemed to get even darker in the pre-morning light, fabric prickling up in agitation like feathers. “So…you’ve already faced him.” It wasn’t a question.

“A few times. You’ve only just arrived here, haven’t you?” I countered.

“Arrived just yesterday. The sleep was decent enough, but I woke up early and thought I’d go for a walk before we had to go down to breakfast. It’s not like back home.”

I nodded. “So you heard about Poseidon, then?”

I saw him bristle, shaking with anticipation. He was almost vibrating with the urge to ask questions about the future, about Destruction, about his – _our_ – former father, about why I was here with Artemis, but he knew that I couldn’t answer. Still, he seemed overwhelmed, so I thought there would be no harm. I’d have to erase his mind anyway, and he would allow me, so there wouldn’t be an issue.

“I know you want to ask.”

“I know I shouldn’t.” He sighed.

“You’ll have to let me erase more than just my visit here if I tell you, but I can.”

“You can erase my whole morning if it means knowing how Poseidon is faring!” he declared.

I cracked a smile. “That’s good. I don’t want to keep this from you, nor do I want to mess with the timeline. I don’t remember going on this walk anyway, so that’s what we must’ve done.”

He nodded, getting closer. Artemis shifted in my arms again, twisting her head from one side to the other so quickly I winced. Her hair draped over her face in strands and sweat was collecting on her brow.

“I must go very soon. Just know that Poseidon will be okay. Everyone will be, and if we get back soon, I can assure that.”

He nodded yet again, sighing in relief, but then furrowed his brows. “You said that you’ve already faced Destruction, but he sent you back in time. That means you lost. How will you defeat him this time?”

I felt Télos coming forward and let him. My eyes darkened to his own purple, which glowed in the dark. I felt his smug smirk stretch across my mouth just before retreating back into our mind. “Because this time, he’s got me,” he said, tilting his head.

“T-Télos…? You had to merge?” Abaddon – my past self – stuttered, backing away slightly. He paused, listening to his own Crypt and Tile.

I couldn’t blame him for being nervous. He already had to share a body with Crypt and Tile, and Télos had grown far more distant over the years than I would’ve liked. Less than a year ago, I would’ve been revolted by the thought of merging with that sarcastic assassin and his sassy remarks. He was my complete opposite – careless, ruthless, rude. Not that I thought I was perfect, but he took those imperfections and amplified them tenfold. It just came with being disliked and revered by everyone in the universe.

 _“You know that I can hear everything you’re thinking, and just because it’s true, doesn’t mean I have to like it,”_ Télos said, slightly aggravated.

 _“Sorry,”_ I replied.

_“You take over again. This guy’s lame.”_

_“He’s me!”_

_“Exactly. Lame.”_ Télos left control of the body with a cruel laugh, retreating back into his corner as I scrambled to take back the body. I nearly stumbled from the head rush as I settled back into consciousness.

“You okay?” Abaddon asked.

“Yeah. I hate it when he does that.”

“Does what? Just leaves the body?” He grinned. “I never have that problem.”

I scoffed. “That’s because Crypt never really takes over and if he does, he’s always polite about it, and Tile never wants to let it go. Télos isn’t used to sharing a body, and since this was originally _his_ body, he feels the need to be extra annoying.” I turned my voice inward. _“You hear that?”_

“Then I can’t wait!” he said sarcastically. “Alright. Follow me and we can get you back to the future. Properly, this time. I have an idea to deal with your god-in-time problem.” He winced. “ _Crypt_ has an idea.”

Tightening my grip on Artemis, I followed him through the rows of strawberries – but not before removing the smooshed strawberries from my butt with a wave of my hand. He led us to the beach – one of the easiest areas to enter the timestream. Water usually is the best, seeing as it moves much more like the river of time than air does – hence the name. It would definitely ensure a smoother entry and exit for us, perhaps helping to stall Artemis’ nausea. Why didn’t I think of that? Better yet, why didn’t _Crypt_ think of that?

 _“Just because I’m from further in the future than the one who suggested this, doesn’t mean I’ll be thinking of the exact same things at the exact same time, especially since, in my mind, this never happened,”_ Crypt said. He seemed slightly peeved, but it was always hard to tell with him. He always hid his emotions so well, more caught up in the world of logic.

 _“My apologies,”_ I replied.

“You’re only travelling a short distance, and it was interrupted before, so you should be good to return right about now.”

“And Artemis?” I asked, turning to my past self.

He glanced at her. “She should be fine as well, as long as she stays unconscious. Whatever happens, though, don’t stop. Making too many stops while travelling through the timestream could cause…unwanted ripples, as I’m sure you know.”

I winced. “Yeah. It should only take several seconds to get through.” I looked up at the sky. It was almost dawn. I had to get Abaddon back to his cabin and in his bed before then or the timeline would be interrupted. How did my future self do it when he travelled back here? How did he get me back in my own bed to wake up at dawn without me even realizing he was here?

“What’s up?” He leaned in to look at me.

“You should get back to the cabin,” I told him. “I remember waking up at dawn this morning, and it’s almost that time now. I…” I paused. “One more thing.”

“What is it?”

“I know that I have to save my strength for the fight that I will inevitably have with Destruction – he’s far too powerful to defeat on my own, but with Télos, I shouldn’t have any reason to worry. In that case, could you bless Artemis with some of your power to ensure our save journey?”

“Wouldn’t that sudden drop in power confuse me after you wipe my mind?”

“It did. I felt it, too, and I was confused but unconcerned. I assumed it was just the travel to earth emotionally straining me. That was why I…wasn’t so powerful during the beginning of my stay here.”

He shrugged. “Alright. If you feel that it will help.” He cast a hand over Artemis’ body. She glowed for a moment, skin bright and hair flickering like flames. “All done,” he said.

“Thank you. Now…” I trailed off.

He grinned. “Back to bed. I get it.”

“Thank you.” I picked through his memories, feeling him, Tile, and Crypt surrendering and lowering their defences. Erasing the whole meeting would be easy, and as long as I got him back in bed, nothing would change. As soon as I was done removing the memories, he fell asleep, and I teleported him back into bed. Then, I cringed. No wonder my back was so sore that morning if I teleported him back so quickly.

“Sorry,” I whispered one last time before masking my presence and stepping into the waves, re-entering the timestream for hopefully the last time in a long while. It was time to face my uncle and put a stop to his crimes.

I’d only find out later that someone had been there that night.

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2035**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


	43. It All Comes Down to a Toothpick Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. I hope you enjoyed this story.

***First Person Point of View ~ Abaddon***

I’ve only just realized that planning to jump to a specific point in time and actually doing it are two _very_ different things. I’ve never gone to a specific second before; sue me. Needless to say, our landing was less than graceful, but I quickly picked myself and Artemis up off of Destruction.

After handing the unconscious goddess off to her sister, Athena, I brushed myself down. “Um. Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” I coughed. “Anyway, we’re back!”

It was then that I noticed that everyone was gaping at me.

“ _Percy_?”

I winced at the pitch of Thalia’s voice. “Yes…?”

“You’re _alive_?”

Destruction growled, pulling himself out of his shock. “Enough of this!” He stumbled as he stood, swiping both hands along his suit to smooth it down. He brushed aside a rebellious hair. “I don’t know how you came back, but it doesn’t matter! You won’t beat me! I’m unstoppable!”

I grinned. That’s what _he_ thought. It was also hard to take him seriously with the smear of mud on his cheek from my boot. Letting Télos’ voice meld with mine, I said, “You won’t beat _us_ a second time.”

Destruction blanched, slack-jawed. “I…that-that’s impossible! You can’t be as one! You can’t! I’m the most powerful one!”

A high tone of “Embarrassing!” rang out from Leo Valdez. When did he get here? Had Chaos summoned him? Nonetheless, I cracked a laugh.

As Destruction whirled around to annihilate him, I drew my sword from the void. Its black length glinted with fire in the light of the torches. “We challenge you to a rematch! What do you say, uncle?” I asked, pointing the sword at him.

He bared his teeth back at me, momentarily forgetting his anger. “You seem confident, nephew. Aside from your recent merging, what makes you so sure you can defeat me this time? You probably don’t even know how to access your new power.”

“How about we find out?”

“Shall we?” He walked toward me slowly, drawing his own sword from the void. It echoed mine, though carried its own collection of souls, like all void swords tended to.

With one final glance at Artemis to reassure myself of my cause, I steeled my determination and charged. This was for everyone and everything in our future.

Every step was carefully placed, each swing calculated. I couldn’t let myself focus on anything but the blade in my hand and the opponent in front of me. I’d already died twice by Destruction’s hand – directly and indirectly – and I wasn’t going to waste the third chance I had to take down my enemy.

There was no denying it. Destruction was the most powerful enemy I’d ever faced – ever hoped or dreaded to face. No one could surpass him, and if they did…I feared the worst. Hopefully, once I bested my uncle, there would finally be peace.

I sidestepped again, letting him follow through with his strike into the ground. A well-placed elbow sent him face-first into the cold marble floor. Rolling over, he spat a wad of blood at my feet. He was slowly, and both of us knew it. Sending Artemis and me back in time drained his strength; getting back here drained mine, but I was still stronger.

He blocked my downward thrust, knocking my blade aside with a flash of sparks. A swift kick of his leg knocked me off balance, but I regained my footing. Unfortunately, the hesitation was just long enough for him to rise and regain his stance. The moment slowed. Sweat beaded down the nape of my neck, cold and hot like a págos-hound breathing down my back. My hair was more mussed than usual, bangs dropping over my eyes, but I couldn’t afford to brush them aside. My own panting melded with my opponent’s, and I could hear the voices of my headmates in my ear, silent to all but me.

Advice poured in from Crypt and Télos and Tile, and even though I didn’t register their words, my body moved by their command. Just as I saw the whites of Destruction’s eyes, I struck, catching his sword, and twirling my blade, sending his weapon skidding across the floor, cutting deep into the marble, like a hot knife through butter. My own sword ended up at his throat as he looked up at me from the floor yet again.

“To think, this all came down to a toothpick fight,” he sneered, regarding my eyes of Ares, glowing like hot coals.

“Not flashy enough for you, uncle?” I asked, pressing deeper against his throat. I drew blood, which trickled down the flat of my blade. A high whistle hissed from the floor as his blood bubbled through the floor.

The victory felt good but too easy. In my last battle against my uncle, he’d taunted me, drawn-out my anger. I’d been blinded by my rage. He’d stolen the body of my father-figure – the man who took my in at my wort and raised me up, up to the man I am today. He’d threatened the safety of my loved ones. His presence alone riled me up like Ares used to from all those years ago. I’d wanted to make him suffer.

But now? I felt nothing but calm. Nothing he could say or do would distract me from my purpose, wouldn’t set me out of my head and give him the advantage. And perhaps that was what let me win so easily. Sure, he’d drained himself of his power to send us hurtling through time, and I’d merged with Télos, only doubling my strength, but my true strength here was so cliché I almost laughed.

I could win because I had a reason to fight. I had true strength in my family and friends who stood behind me. With them behind me, I couldn’t give in to rage, because I could draw my power from a much deeper well: love.

Destruction’s reasons were selfish and rife with revenge. That made him weak. That made him vulnerable, and without his tricks, he couldn’t defeat me. There was nothing more up his sleeve.

Suddenly, he grinned. “Well? On with it, then! End me. Put me out of my misery, nephew.” Hate dripped from his words.

I could feel Télos pushing to the surface. He wanted to be the one to end our uncle, to drain him of his powers and finally send him to the Void, to his father’s domain. And I let him. Who cared if everyone found out? They would eventually. It wasn’t like they could reject me all over again if I had to leave soon.

Just as I receded into myself again, that thought struck me. We’d won. We were leaving, going back to Cofando to continue our missions as usual, but…what about the life I’d built here in such a short time? I couldn’t just leave it, nor could I leave the life I’d built on Cofando. How would I make this choice?

I didn’t even have much time, because Télos swung our sword in a motion to take Destruction’s head clean off, however, the moment it struck, his body vanished in a burst of ashes, leaving behind a single, sparkling white light. Télos reached out, wrapping his fingers around the light. With a sharp jerk, he formed a fist, quenching the flicker.

“Be gone with you,” I heard him say, mostly to himself. He grinned smugly. “Not so tough now, are you, uncle?” he murmured into the air. “Let grandfather decide what to do with you.”

And suddenly, the moment was over. Everything was over. We’d won.

Artemis – now awake (when had that happened?) – rushed forward into Télos’ arms. Laughing along with her, he spun her around in a circle, grinning as he did so. Artemis gave him a hard look, though she couldn’t keep the smile off her face, which ruined the stern effect.

“Change back,” she ordered.

Before I even knew what was happening, the body was mine again and her lips were pressing against me. Simple and chaste and yet so full of emotion that I melted. Pure joy rushed through my body like gasoline, igniting every nerve.

“Okay! Okay! Break it up!” Apollo’s face appeared next to mine as he shoved us apart, looking annoyed. Somehow, he kept the overprotective big brother look on his face. He was glaring at me. “I don’t care if you’re dating! Hands off my baby sister!”

Artemis scowled. A bright golden blush coloured her face. “Apollo!” she scolded. “I’m several thousand years old! Don’t treat me like some foolish teenager!”

She crossed her arms as I laughed. My own face had darkened, giving my cheeks the appearance of bruised blueberries. “Don’t worry, Apollo, she took an oath, and I take that very seriously. I swear abstinence.” He winked. “If I want kids, we’ll talk about adoption.”

Artemis’ cheeks darkened once more like she’d been airbrushed in metallic paint. She slapped my arm. “Not you too!” Though secretly, I could tell that she was happy with my statement.

Apollo ignored her, just nodding. “Then we’re cool cuz …bro? …uncle? Whatever.” His megawatt smile returned, and I averted my eyes to avoid being blinded. “I have a pretty lady awaiting me elsewhere, so I’ll just…” he pointed off to the right.

“Go,” I waved absentmindedly, looking back down at Artemis.

“What a hypocrite!”

I wrapped my arms around her once more. “Shall we go, milady? While the night is still young?”

She pressed against my chest. “Percy, it’s mid-afternoon,” she deadpanned.

“Then how about brunch in Paris? My treat.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Sounds great! When do we leave?” Thalia popped up next to us. The rest of the Hunters were behind her.

I won’t admit to nearly jumping out of my skin, but Télos was already having a laugh with Tile, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to deny it. I immediately began stuttering. “I…uh… I meant it to be a private thing? Um…”

“Nuh-uh.” Thalia shook her head. “No way we’re letting you two go out without supervision. We’re chaperoning.”

I scanned at the gathering. “All of you?”

“Yup!”

I glanced at Artemis, then sighed. “Do we have a choice?”

“I’m afraid not, love. Let’s go.”

I was just about to teleport us back when a strange feeling overcame me. Was I forgetting something? I felt like I was forgetting something. Like, that feeling you get when you leave the house and wonder if you left the stove on, or the water running, even if you weren’t even in the kitchen that morning.

Artemis’ hand gently brushed my shoulder. “Percy? What’s wrong?”

It couldn’t be Destruction’s army. With him gone, all those he’d raised from Tartarus were easily dealt with, and his own creations disintegrated along with him. All of the campers were accounted for (or at least Chiron was counting them now). Argh! What could it be?

Artemis shook me harder. “Percy? Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know…”

Then, it hit me. Literally. The next second, I was sprawled out on the ground with a large wet dog-breath smelling tongue on my face. Artemis had lunged away from me at the last moment, escaping the bulldozer.

“Ah! Gross! Haetros! That’s disgusting! Don’t you brush your teeth?”

_“Of course, I don’t. I’m a dog, you idiot!”_

“Yeah, a talking dog! At least to me! That means you shouldn’t lick! It’s so weird! Imagine if I started licking _you_ in the face!”

Artemis and the Hunters were already laughing on the side, but that just made them laugh harder.

Haetros pulled his face away from mine, giving me a weird look. His paws were still planted on my chest. _“okay, first of all, that’s weird because you’re a human.”_

“And second?” I asked.

_“Um…that’s all I got. You’re human, so it’s weird. Besides. I have a girlfriend.”_

“Then go lick _her_ in the face.”

He grinned wolfishly at me. _“Don’t mind if I do.”_ Releasing me from the weight of his large paws, he left. Just like that. Well, I guess he just wanted to know that I was alive and to cover me in drool.

Snapping my fingers to scourge myself, I looked over at Artemis. “If there are no more surprises, I think we can go now?” My voice was hesitant, but when no one else barrelled me over or popped up right next to my ear, I relaxed. Artemis took my arm. “To Paris, milady?”

“To Paris.”

The world inverted, and suddenly we were at a pleasant little café in the city of love. A decorative clock across the courtyard told us that it was just past ten o’clock. I led her to a secluded table as the Hunters swarmed the rest of the outdoor eating area, picking up their menus and chatting excitedly. As soon as I felt Thalia’s watchful eyes leave the back of my neck, I met Artemis’s eyes and said, “What will you have, my love?”

She ended up getting a plate of crepes for herself while I ordered a croissant with jam and an espresso. It may be expensive, and I may not get coffee that often (on account of my ADHD) but you can’t knock the French’s espressos! They really know what they’re doing!

Artemis cut into her crepes delicately, and, as she perched a mouthful at the end of her fork, she met my eyes. “We should do this more often. Just…without the Hunters. I love them, and they’re my sisters in arms, but I want you all to myself.”

“Dinner, here, later this week?” I proposed.

Putting the fork in her mouth, she savours the taste of the decadent dark chocolate and fresh berries, then smiled the most beautiful smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

*******

**Words in Chapter: 2300**

**~CSP2708~**

**Carolin S. Petersen**


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